The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern
by OhGod OhGod Were All Gonna Die
Summary: After facing an ancient enemy too powerful for even their mighty corp, the Green Lanterns are no more. In a desperate gambit to ensure the survival of the power of will, the last guardian entrusts his power to one boy. A boy burdened with a destiny that will shake the very foundation of magic. Inspired by "Harry Potter and the Power of Oa"
1. Prologue

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

By: _Oh God, Oh God We're All Gonna Die_

_Thanks to Bluminous8 for allowing me to sample and thank you to AntHil for being my beta_

Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics and as for Harry Potter, he's real and you can't own a real person that is slavery

A/N: Crossover between Harry Potter/Justice League/Green Lantern

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_**July 2, 1981 Early Evening  
>Potter Cottage, Godric's Hollow, England<strong>_

Squeals of laughter could be heard from the small cottage at the end of the lane. They came from the small green-eyed baby boy named Harry Potter who was being floated around the living room by his godfather Sirius Black.

"Padfoot! Put him down before Lily comes in here." The boy's father, James Potter, looked on. He loved watching his son smile and laugh but knew he was in for a night on the couch if his wife caught them. Again.

"We're just playing around Prongsie," Black laughed. "Besides, you know I would never hurt Har-" He was interrupted by a happy shriek from the toddler as he completed a corkscrew.

Lily Potter stood at the kitchen door, watching the toddler zoom around the den laughing maniacally. While she hated them being so reckless with her son, and this was almost as bad as them letting him ride Prongs, she loved hearing Harry laugh. She decided to give them just a little bit more time, and let Harry have a little more fun.

Standing at just 5'5", Lily Potter could not physically match James Potter and Sirius Black, who were both inches above six feet, but she could cow them nonetheless. Her fiery temper matched with her prodigious skill with a wand made her threats pause worthy. And being one of four people to ever go toe-to-toe with Bellatrix Lestrange and live only added to her reputation.

Leaning against the doorframe, she admired her husband. _'Merlin, I love that man,'_ the lovely redhead thought to herself. She admired James Potter. Tall with broad shoulders, he cut an impressive but lean figure. Not bulky, he had the build of a seeker, light and fast. From the windswept hair that he constantly raked his hands through, to the gentle brown eyes she couldn't help but fall into. No one was more surprised than her when she realized she had fallen for James "The Berk" Potter. All of the habits that used to set her on edge were the things that she couldn't live without. These were just some of the mysteries of love.

'_Ok, time to break this up before Sirius gets anymore ideas,' _Mrs. Potter said to herself. Walking up to the trio unnoticed she smacked Sirius in the back of the head with her right hand while catching a happily squealing Harry deftly in her left. She enjoyed the look of awe on James' face and the look of hurt on Sirius'. "What have I told you about floating my son around the house, Black?" Lily smirked inwardly at the wide-eyed looks of fear on the faces of the big strong men. "I think I said something about 'not in your life.' Didn't I?" Sirius' eyes darted to James as he fumbled for a way to pass off the blame.

"Well…you see…Harry was looking a little … bored?" Sirius tried.

"Uh huh, well you seemed to have cured that." Lily rolled her eyes. "Now I have to get Harry cleaned up since we'll be having more company in a minute." She walked away, cooing at Harry, enjoying his giggles.

"Ma! Ma! Ma," Harry chanted, clapping his hands.

James followed his family to the nursery. "Who are we expecting, Love?" His wife just smiled mischievously, causing her husband to wonder. He hadn't seen Remus in quite some time. The real world was not as kind as Hogwarts had been to the young werewolf. Moony had taken it hard. The only thing that had improved was his pride. He'd angrily refused offers of help from his friends.

He took his son from his wife and headed downstairs, Lily in tow. The doorbell rang and, "MINNIE!" was yelled from downstairs. They entered the foyer just in time to see Sirius being scolded by their old teacher and now friend, Minerva McGonagall.

"Sirius Black, I will make you into the prettiest pair of Mary Janes you have ever seen if you do not stop calling me that. So begin acting like the adult you claim to be," the stern looking woman growled out. Turning towards the young couple, a smile quickly grew on her face as she reached for the baby.

"Come here you little sprog," Minerva whispered to the little boy. She couldn't help but laugh when she heard, "Minnie," from him, too. Casting a glare at the now innocent looking Sirius Black, she studied her godson. He reached out with his clumsy hands and tugged on the collar of her robe, pulling her face to his, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. Teary eyed, Minerva held him tight, looking for a place to sit.

Harry clapped his hands together and started another chant, "KITTY! KITTY! KITTY!" Laughing at the boy, she set him on the floor, and quickly changed into her animagus form, a black tabby cat. Harry sat there, stunned, and then slowly crawled closer to the cat, never taking his eyes off of her. Gathering it close, he ignored a, "Be gentle Harry" from his mother and kissed it on the nose. He hugged it tightly, softly murmuring, "Kitty."

Swiftly changing back, Minerva hugged her godson to her chest tightly. No man had ever held her heart the way that Harry Potter did.

_**August 21, 1981 Mid-Morning  
>Hogsmeade, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

Summoned for a meeting with the Headmaster of Hogwarts, James and Lily took it as an opportunity to walk through the charming village of Hogsmeade and enjoy some fresh air and sunshine with their son. It was a welcome change from the monotony of their home.

Despite Hogsmeade's pleasant façade Lily and James weren't lolled into a false sense of security. They were in the middle of a war and would only feel safe once they were inside Hogwarts. The weather did not match the dangerous climate. The sunny, cloudless sky belied the danger that all so-called blood traitors and mudbloods were in. It was open war, no one and nowhere was safe. Except of course, for Hogwarts, which was graced with the presence of Albus Dumbledore, the only person that the Dark Lord had ever feared.

"Are you sure we should be out in the open, James? You know what can happen to us if they catch us by surprise. We can't risk Harry's safety." Lily was more than a little worried. "You heard about what happened to the McKinnons. We all thought they were safely hidden and they still found them. And here we are walking around in broad daylight. This isn't smart." She was starting to panic. Lily Potter was a fighter; she showed that escaping Lord Voldemort more times than anyone would want to meet him, but this endangered her son.

"I know love, we're almost there." James Potter was just as worried. "Albus said that we would have an invisible guard once we stepped out of the floo; covering us just in case." He said this with his wand in his hand. He trusted no one with his son's safety other than himself and his wife. He hustled them up the lane until the front gates came into view. He loved visiting Hogwarts. It was like coming home again. Crossing the wards, he knew they were safe for now. No Death Eater would dare enter Hogwarts.

School still being out of session for the summer, the castle was almost empty. Making the silent trek to the Headmaster's office, the young couple wondered what could warrant meeting in such a dangerous time. Dread in their hearts, they approached the gargoyle.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Lily's cries rang through the Headmaster's office. "NO! No, not my baby. He can't have him. No, James tell him. It's not Harry! It's talking about someone else." Her world was crumbling around her. She didn't know which way to turn. The Headmaster…this man had just said her son was Voldemort's main target. That couldn't be right, Harry was just a baby. <em>'Why would anyone want to hurt my son?<em> _He hasn't hurt anyone! How could anyone target a baby?' _Lily trembled, she feared for her son's life.

"Come here Lils." James attempted to soothe her. "We will stop this Lily, he won't get Harry. He will never find him. We'll ward the cottage; no one will be able to find us." The elder male Potter was already working out ways to protect them, making plans to secure his family's safety.

Albus' heart broke for the young family. Older than they had ever seen him, the lines on his face gave him a defeated look; the youthful exuberance that defined him, missing. He wanted nothing more than to give these wonderful people a chance to be happy, a chance to raise their son. But alas, magic had rendered her decision and, as mortals, they could do nothing but weather the storm.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and spoke softly, "There is something I think can help. There is a special spell known as the Fidelius..."

_**August 23, 1981 Dinner Time  
>Potter Cottage, Godric's Hollow, England<strong>_

It was a somber mood that filled the cottage. The knowledge that a powerful, crazy monster was hunting their son made the world much darker. Two tense days filled with awkward silences, anger filled retorts and hysterical crying followed the announcement of the prophecy. It was with a heavy heart that James and Lily Potter prepared to abandon the war. All thoughts were now of their son, Harry.

After studying up on the Fidelius Charm, Lily decided it was time to sequester themselves in the cottage. This decision in and of itself set off a round of arguments that rocked the quiet cottage.

"Why can't we use the manor house? It was built for defense," James exclaimed. "It has housed every generation of Potters for the last six hundred years." That house was where he had grown up. He couldn't abandon it now. The life he lived before the war, before the death of his parents, all that was left of the innocence of his youth, was based in that house. And he clung to it desperately.

Lily couldn't get him to understand. The cottage was the perfect place for the charm. Small, out of the way, and only known to a few people. Just right for them and their 13-month-old son.

"That is the point James. Everyone knows about it and they know we would run there. Between the house and the grounds, there's too much land to cover." Lily pleaded him. "No person has the power to cover that much land and erase its location from the minds of the thousands of people that know about it. It has to be here James and you know it."

James was fighting a hopeless battle. He knew that, but he couldn't just give up without trying. "Then what? Do I just let them destroy it? That is the house I grew up in! The house my family has always protected," James said brokenly. "What if something happens to it?"

Lily slid to her knees and held her husband, knowing this was a tough decision. He was proud to be a Potter. And in his family's entire history, no one had ever up and left the manor defenseless. Earlier Potters had fought and died on its grounds rather than allow it to be invaded. But they had never faced a nightmare like the one Magical Britain was now facing. The amount of power this Dark Lord possessed was terrifying.

The only solution she had was a last resort and she knew the thought was not going to be well received but had to voice it anyway.

"You know what you have to do James. You need to close the grounds." Just saying those words made her husband look up in horror.

Closing the family grounds only happened in the direst of circumstances. The head of the family would command the estate to seal itself and wait to be claimed by the rightful heir. Once sealed, the grounds and manor were said to be inaccessible to all who searched for it. It was a secret passed down to the heads of the noble families to be used only when the survival of their family line was in jeopardy.

The reason for his reluctance was that the estate could not be reopened again until the one who closed it had passed away. This action would force James to give up all rights to his ancestral home. Even if he survived these hard times, Harry would be the only one that could claim it and only after James had died.

The shame of fleeing would stiffen the spine of any wizard. But to a Potter, who valued family over everything, it meant so much more. To not be allowed back on family ground was voluntary exile. It meant losing access to the family grimoire that had been passed down through the generations. No Potter had ever done that. No Potter had ever willingly given up their heritage, no matter the circumstances.

But James knew a choice had to be made. Either leave the estate open in hopes of surviving and going home again but chancing the possibility of an attack, or, closing it and preserving the legacy of the Potters for Harry to discover and carry on. It was an easy choice. He would rather never see it again than risk some Death Eaters walking through the halls of his forefathers. "Fine," James agreed, "but we still need to figure out the specifics for this charm."

"Yes. The only thing we need to decide on is who our secret keeper will be," Lily said.

"Sirius. There is no one I would trust more with our family's safety than Sirius. He would rather die than betray us." On this James was adamant. Sirius Black was his brother in all but blood. The chances of him betraying them were the same as Voldemort retiring to become a muggle day care provider.

"Why not Remus? He is one of your best friends James, and much more stable." Lily wanted to be absolutely sure about this. They couldn't assume anything. This was about protecting their son.

James looked down ashamed. Remus _was_ one of his best friends. But these past few months he had been distant, secretive, and angry. And with it widely known that Voldemort was making a big push to recruit werewolves, James couldn't be sure. And for this he needed a guarantee.

"Sirius, it has to be Sirius."

_**August 31, 1981 Early Evening  
>Potter Cottage, Godric's Hollow, England<strong>_

On a much windier night than one usually saw in August, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew made their way up the walkway of Potter Cottage. Sirius, because he was needed, and Peter because Sirius had a grand plan.

Knocking on the door, they were let in by a harried looking Lily Potter, who was surprised to see Peter. At that moment James came hurrying into the foyer, "Sirius, about time you mad-, Peter?" He looked from Lily to Sirius to Peter for some sort of explanation.

"James, Lily can I talk to you in private for a moment." Seeing nods, he turned to Peter, "Wait here Peter."

Leading them into the kitchen he raised privacy wards before turning around. "I think we should switch the secret keeper to Peter," Sirius blurted out.

James was incredulous, "Sirius, there was a reason we picked you. We trust you with everything, made you the godfather to our son, you can protect yourself if anyone comes calling. You know why it's you Sirius, we talked about this."

"I've been thinking on this since we last talked," he said. Seeing their confusion he pushed on. "I would be proud to be your secret keeper James, but let's be honest, everyone would suspect me. If we make Peter the secret keeper and don't tell anyone then I can be the perfect ruse. Anyone looking for you would look for me first and I couldn't give them anything no matter how hard they tried."

"James…Lily, you know I would never let any harm come to you or Harry. I'll drop some hints that I know more than I'm saying and that would give Peter the best cover we have. Let me do this for you. To keep all of you safe." There it was. His plan. Bait and switch.

James was rightfully conflicted. On one hand it was a good plan, but on the other Peter was one of his best friends but Sirius was his brother. He looked to his wife for guidance.

Lily understood the plan. Even felt it had merit, but there was one thing she needed to stress to her husband and his best friend.

"James, it is solid. And with Sirius looking out for Peter he will be safe. But we need to do this quickly. We shouldn't have waited this long. It has to happen tonight." Seeing the nods she walked out of the kitchen to get everything ready for the ritual, leaving James and Sirius alone.

"You will be there for Harry if something happens to us right?"

"Of course Prongs, I would look after him like he was my own."

* * *

><p>Seated on an onyx throne, in what used to be the ballroom in Malfoy Manor, Lord Voldemort waited for his spy.<p>

Waiting was not something he did well.

The door creaked open for a hooded figure. He allowed it to approach and bow before him, then, "_Crucio__!_ You know better than to make me wait. Even you, my illustrious spy, do not get to disrespect me," the Dark Lord hissed quietly.

"Master, please! Apologies master! But I bring news of the Potters," the man said, prostrating himself before his master.

Voldemort stood, eagerly awaiting any news on the so-called prophecy child. _'It seems I was right to not have killed you when you first fell into my trap,' _the Dark Lord crowed silently to himself. Pieces were falling into place nicely. For once he took care of the son of the mudblood, he would be free to face the Ministry directly.

"So tell me, what news do you have of the Potters? Leaving the country? No, Potter is a proud fool. He wishes to challenge me to a duel, is it? Hahaha, I can see the blood traitor thinking he could match my power." His magic was singing to him. He could feel the final triumph in the air; taste the victory that Salazar Slytherin so rightfully deserved. Soon, he could take on the war against muggles, mudbloods, and blood traitors unopposed.

"No master, they are hiding. They've decided to use the Fidelius Charm. It is where a secret-, Ahhhh!"

"_Crucio__!_ Don't presume to lecture me on magic. Me, Lord Voldemort, who has forgotten more magic than you will ever know."

The hooded man shuddered from the after effects of the pain curse. Gaining control of himself was becoming harder with each curse. "Of course my lord. I meant no disrespect. I merely sought to clarify."

Voldemort wasn't listening; instead he was weighing his chances on finding the secret keeper, and the necessity of hunting down their friends. The Fidelius was a powerful charm. And any hope of finding the family would mean finding them before they did the charm.

"So what can you give me? The identity of their secret keeper? The binder? The date they will do the ritual?"

"No my lord," said Peter Pettigrew as he lowered his hood. "I can give you the Potters."

_**October 31, 1981 Late Evening  
>Potter Cottage, Godric's Hollow, England<strong>_

This should have been a quiet night.

They should have enjoyed the holiday atmosphere of costumes and laughter, watching the miniature princesses, the pirates, and the ghosts wander about.

But no, the fiends that haunted them were very real. No adorable white sheets with eye holes. No shiny blue dresses with plastic tiaras.

No, they feared white masks and black robes.

This was what they feared. October 31st 1981 was a day for nightmares.

* * *

><p>BOOM!<p>

The door blew inwards, barely hanging onto its hinges.

The nightmare that had been haunting their sleep slowly entered their home. The sound attracted the attention of the father. Forgetting himself, he left his wand on the couch in the living room. _'He is not even prepared to fight.'_

"Lily, its him! Take Harry and run!"*

Voldemort stood in the doorway watched the woman run upstairs holding a bundle protectively in her arms. _'Ahh, the prophecy child…at last.'_

He watched the man stand in his way, blocking the stairs. Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you can stop me? You, who stands against me unarmed. I am the greatest sorcerer to ever live. I am Lord Voldemort."

With barely a thought, Voldemort yanked James Potter into the air in front of him. James' hands were at his throat, trying to relieve the pressure that was starting to build, slowly choking him.

"L…Lord?" he choked out, barely able to breathe. "Funny, I…I don't remember ever hearing about your house." The pressure increased causing him to gag. "My family is noble, you are nothing. Lord my…my arse."

He could feel the magic washing over him. For as much as he hated him, the Dark Lord was very powerful. He felt fear, not for himself but for his wife and son. He could do nothing else to protect them. James silently asked for their forgiveness. He had failed.

"My blood is more pure than any of your kind could ever know. And you dare insult me!" He leveled his wand at James Potter's chest.

James did the only thing he could do. With his last breath he snarled, "I dare."

"_Penetro!_"

The focused beam of light tore through James' chest and the light faded from his eyes as his heart stopped beating.

* * *

><p>Lily Potter was cornered. She felt the anti-apparition wards that had sprung up just as the front door was blown in. And the only floo in the house was on the first floor. Past the Dark Lord, past her husband…past her husband's body. The thought of her James caused sobs to wrack her body. The only thing she could do was try and lock them in and pray help would arrive soon.<p>

CRASH!

"There is nowhere to run. There is nowhere to hide. But I do not want you. I just want the boy. Step aside and you can live." He had no need to kill her. And he had promised her to a servant already, in exchange for information about the prophecy.

"No! Please, he's just a baby. Not Harry!"

"This is your final warning. Nothing and no one will stand between me and everlasting life. This is the final obstacle, after this I will be immortal."

"Not Harry! Please, he has never harmed anyone. Please don't take my son from me."

"You have had your chance and you waste it? No more time, girl. _Avada Kedavra!_" And like a marionette with its strings cut, Lily dropped lifelessly in front of her son's crib. The last barrier between Lord Voldemort and little Harry Potter was gone.

Harry had felt the tension in the house since the front door had crashed in. Like any other baby he expressed his dislike for the yelling and screaming by crying as loud as he could. Hoping his mother would put an end to the noises and soothe him. Now he watched as his mother lay on the floor and didn't get up.

Voldemort slowly approached the crib. Studying the one that would become his undoing. He could sense the faint flare of power. The levels were insignificant to him and any adult wizard but impressive in a child not even a year and a half old. _'Yes, this is the one the prophecy has foreseen. This is the one that is meant to face me.'_

The green eyes blurred by tears, cherubic face set in a scowl, stared up into the red slits. What Voldemort did not know was that fate had a hand in this moment. Harry Potter would remember this exact moment for the rest of his life. Burned into his memory, only coming to mind when he lay sleeping, the red slits fueling his nightmares. This moment would shape their destiny.

The phoenix wand he had purchased in Diagon Alley all those years ago came up to point at the toddler. A perverse sense of satisfaction rose up in him as he said the words that would cement his future, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

The resulting explosion rocked not just the house or the lane, but all of Godric's Hollow.

_**November 1, 1981 Evening  
>Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey<strong>_

A lone figure wearing what seemed to be a purple bathrobe, splattered with twinkling stars walked down the street. Walking on the verge of shadow, he passed each streetlight just as it mysteriously flickered and went out. Soon all of Privet Drive was lost in darkness.

But he was not alone for long. A lone crack was heard and the distraught Minerva McGonagall soon joined him.

"Please Albus, please tell me it isn't true. They can't be…. Not Lily and James." This was the most emotion Dumbledore had ever seen from his oldest friend. "Oh Merlin…_Harry_."

They were interrupted by the roar of a motorbike. Looking to sky they saw the groundskeeper of Hogwarts, Rubeus Hagrid, swoop down on them. He landed well short of them to give himself time to break.

"Here he is Headmaster. Fell asleep just as we were flyin' over Bristol."* Hagrid carried the bundle in the palm of his hand. Well, to be fair, Hagrid stood at over eight feet tall and many things would fit in the palm of his hand.

"I did not realize you owned a motorbike Hagrid."

"I don't sir, borrowed it from young Sirius. Met him at the…the house." Hagrid choked on his tears, missing the dark look that passed over Dumbledore's face at the mention of Sirius Black.

"He was still in his room when I went to go get him yesterday, and…and I saw their bodies." This caused Minerva to sob harder. "So, I brought them together into the livin' room. Sirius said he would take care of them before he ran off to make sure the others were safe.

"Is it true Headmaster? They are callin' Harry 'the boy who lived'. They are sayin' that he survived the killin' curse from You-Know-Who himself."

The headmaster let loose a tired sigh and studied the sleeping toddler, taking note of the jagged scar above his right eye, "Yes, it is true. Nothing like this has ever happened to anyone before. Harry is very special."

By this time Minerva had taken hold of her godson, shedding tears for the boy's parents. A teacher should never have favorites, and Minerva would never admit this out loud, but James and Lily were hers. Never had she met two more extraordinary people. She had not always thought that, rightfully so as James Potter was a right pain when he was younger, but she had seen the two of them grow together and could not be prouder. That is, until they asked her to stand for their son as his godmother.

Harry snuggled closer to her, trying to escape from the chill of the November night. But the shaking of her sobs roused him from sleep. Blinking open his eyes, he held his chubby arms out to her and murmured, "Minnie," sleepily. Wiping her tears, she kissed the little boy on the forehead. Crying for the life she knew he had lost on Halloween night.

"Albus, why are we here?"

"This is the home of one Petunia Dursley."

"Petunia Dursley?" Minerva was puzzled, the only Petunia she knew of was-. "No Albus! You can't mean to leave Harry here. She is a despicable person. She hates anything to do with her sister and our world."

"A family needs each other in a time like this. And we need to keep Harry safe. And he will be safest here, away from the wizarding world." Dumbledore had everything planned. Lily's older sister, Petunia, would look after Harry, ensuring his safety. "Too many people would fight over his guardianship, Minerva."

"No, he can stay with me. I am his godmother. I promised to take care of him if anything were to happen to Lily and James. Sirius should be here to discuss it as well. Where is he? He wouldn't leave Harry alone, not after last night," she said, looking towards the headmaster.

"I'm afraid that's not possible now, Minerva."

"Oh Albus. Don't say it. Not Sirius too."

"No, I'm afraid Sirius has betrayed us."

"No! I refuse to believe that. Sirius would never do that. Not to James. He loved him like a brother. They would have died for each other Albus and you know it."

"It is true, they cast the Fidelius," Minerva gasped, realizing the role Sirius played. "Sirius was the only person with access to the Potter's home, the only one who could _give_ _access_ to others."

Minerva was shocked. If what Albus said was true, Sirius had destroyed the family. He had orphaned his godson. But why? Why would Sirius do such a thing? He had never shown any inclination to blood purity. How could he have fooled them all? The questions running through her head were interrupted by the bundle in her arms saying, "Mama?"

She sobbed harder. "No Harry, it's just me, just Aunt Minnie" _'__Only me.'_

She looked at Dumbledore. "He will not be staying here, Albus. I will take care of him. This is my responsibility."

"Minerva, there are Death Eaters still on the loose. The Lestranges are still roaming the country. And just an hour ago, I received word that the Minister has granted a full pardon to Lucius Malfoy. He has already asked after Harry." He allowed that to register with her before continuing. "They know where you reside Minerva and they will come for him. They will come; whether by force in the night or through the courts. This is the one place they cannot touch him. He will be safe here. He needs to stay."

Minerva couldn't believe what she was hearing. All of this was surreal. But she knew…she knew at her core that he was right. She didn't have the political power or the wealth to fight the purebloods in court over custody of Harry. Only Sirius had that ability, and that was a road closed to them forever.

"Mama? Mama! Mama! Mama!" the toddler screamed, not understanding why his mother wasn't running to him like she always did.

"Harry…Harry, shh little one. It's ok. You will be safe now. They cannot find you here." This was breaking her heart. She was abandoning her godson to people she didn't know, to a future that did not have room for her. She walked to the doorstep, stooping low to place the bassinet gently on the ground.

Teary green eyes locked-in to meet hers.

"Minnie?" Another choked breath.

"I am so sorry Harry."

Albus then placed a letter addressed to Petunia Dursley at one end of the bassinet. It explained how her sister had been killed and who the child was. He also promised that as long as they kept him safe, they would not have to fear any contact from the magical world.

Minerva pressed a kiss to her godson's head. Standing stiffly, she made her way down the path, away from the house. "MINNIE!" The little voice caused her to stop.

"MINNIE! NO! NO! NO!" She looked back. Clearly able to see the small arms waving and tears rolling down his red cheeks.

"KITTY!" That was like a blow to the body. Hunched over, she sobbed into her hand. She did the hardest thing she would ever have to do; she kept on walking. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she turned to glare at Albus, causing him to flinch back a step.

At the end of the lane, she turned on her heel. The loud resounding crack told the headmaster how close she was to losing control at her departure. The headmaster corralled the bawling Hagrid, and made towards the spot Minerva had left from.

After seeing grounds keeper off on the bike he stopped, taking a glance back he whispered, "Be safe Harry."

"What the hell is all that racket? Waking up decent folk at this hour of night. And someone shut up that damn baby." A gruff voice screamed from the house marked No. 4.

For several more hours, the wails of the terrified infant could be heard throughout Privet Drive.

And the Boy Who Lived screamed, "Kitty," well into the night.

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	2. The Best Laid Plans

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or DC Comics.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: Best Laid Plans<strong>

_**December 25, 1984 Just after Dinner  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

Humming a nameless ditty to himself a very full and sleepy Albus Dumbledore walked the halls of Hogwarts after sharing Christmas dinner with the few staff members and students to stay at the castle during the holidays. Smiling, he made a mental note to thank the house elves for the wonderful meal. Arriving at his office he walked over to pet Fawkes, his phoenix familiar. "Oh Fawkes, I hope your burning day comes soon," Dumbledore worried. Graying feathers collected at the bottom of his perch. This, along with the progressive slump of his posture, was a sign of his impending death.

As the Headmaster started settle down for the night a loud keening noise shattered the silence of his office. Eyes wide, he looked towards his silver instruments, heart wrenching so very much like that day in Godric's Hollow over a century and a half ago. The table of sensors was rattling violently and Albus saw the cause. The instrument he had charmed that Halloween night, the small trinket that measured the status of the blood wards and the health of the orphan named Harry James Potter was on the verge of combusting. Breaking through his shock he ran to the floo and screamed, "Minerva!"

A few seconds later a stern looking woman stepped out of the floo, wary of the now panicked looking Headmaster. "Albus, what is wrong? What is that noise?" she asked. Minerva wondered what could possibly rattle him.

"I will explain when we arrive, for time is of the essence," Albus replied. "We must depart." He reached into his robes for his permanent portkey, holding out the pair of spectacles that had once belonged to Percival Dumbledore. They disappeared in whirl of sound and magic.

_**December 25, 1984 Just after Dinner  
>Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey<strong>_

They appeared in front of the rather unremarkable #4 Privet Drive, gripping their light cloaks tighter to their bodies in an attempt to escape the cold. Recognizing the house, only one thought crossed Minerva's mind, _'Harry?' Oh Merlin, please let him be alright.' _Their sudden need to be here coupled with the unfamiliar look on her friend's face only served to compound her worry. As they reached the house the wizard didn't break stride as he vanished the door, revealing a dark hallway.

Minerva rounded on Albus and asked in an angry voice. "Where are they?" Looking around she saw all the lights off and felt the telling chill of the turned-off heating system. There was no Yuletide trimming, no tree, no presents and no people in this home. Whatever had occurred the family was obviously not present for it. _'Thank Merlin.'_

"Albus, I think they left for the holidays, you must have been mistaken."

Looking around the wizard said, "No, the monitors are never wrong; they are tied into his blood, to his very magic. Search this floor; I will attend to the upstairs. Leave nothing unturned Minerva, I fear Harry is in mortal peril."

Minerva gasped and watched him take the stairs at an incredible speed for someone of his advanced age, even for a wizard. Her mind started running through all of the most terrible scenarios. All of which starred little Harry shivering and alone in the dark. Shouting, "Harry! Harry!" she raced through the various doors, searching in fear, hoping to spot her raven-haired godson.

Upstairs, Albus started flicking proximity charms at every room. The charm was designed to find life in the immediate area. He felt no response, nothing to indicate that they were not alone in the house. There was also an offsetting feeling to the bedrooms. He identified the master bedroom as the room for Vernon and Petunia Dursley and the next biggest bedroom as belonging to their son. He could tell by the pictures that were placed around the rooms. He passed the open door to what looked like a guest room and walked into the last bedroom, which was used for storage. Piles of broken toys and discarded books lay within. No sign of Harry's room.

Minerva, having finished searching downstairs without finding Harry, felt torn between relief and anxiety. She was sure that they had vacationed for the holidays but she couldn't shake the doubts at the back of her mind. With her task complete and her worry somewhat suppressed, she started to examine the pictures on the mantle of the living room. Some were of the Dursleys as a family but most featured just their rotund offspring. _'My word, he is absolutely garish. Do they ever stop feeding the boy? He is rounder than he is tall! Where are the pictures of Harry?' _she thought.

"He is not up there and I don't think he has a room in this house." The Headmaster's voice pulled her from her thoughts. He was now at the bottom of the stairs. Minerva could feel the worry in his words.

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean he doesn't have a room in this house. I thought you explained to them the need for caution in his case. They should know he couldn't be allowed to live anywhere else, Albus. He is not down here either and we have searched every room in this house."

Dumbledore let loose a relieved breath, praying silently that his instruments had malfunctioned. _'Maybe the family went somewhere warm for the holiday on a vacation,'_ he thought somewhat optimistically. "I fear this a false alarm Minerva. I am sorry to have worried you. I think that Harry is somewhere-" He stopped suddenly, a faint pulse of power interrupting his thoughts.

Narrowing his eyes he turned toward the door under the stairs. The Transfiguration Mistress watched him, confused. "Albus, that door does not lead to a room, it is just a cupboard. Muggles use them to store cleaning supplies, you really need to leave the castle more," said Minerva exasperatedly. Ignoring her he spotted a piece of paper sticking out slightly from under the door. Picking it up he spied a letter scrawled in green crayon, the handwriting shaky. It read:

**Deer Santa, plis bring me fud an a blanket. I am very col an very hungy. I will be a gud boy. Thak you Santa.**

**hary poter.**

Albus stared at the paper, dazed. Minerva wiped tears from her eyes. "Oh where is he!" Minerva cried in frustration, and with nothing left to do she opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs hoping to discover more letters hidden inside. She found more and far worse than she ever dreamed.

'_No! Not my Harry! Not my Harry,' _she screamed in her mind. She fell to the floor, her mouth open and a sound of horror forming in her throat. Albus looked inside; and never in his almost two centuries of living, of fighting through wars, had he ever seen a more sickening sight. Dumbledore stared at Harry's body, bile rising in his throat. He did this. The image of the little frozen body would haunt him forever.

The tiny four-year-old body of Harry James Potter was curled into itself over a thin dirty mattress, his lips blue and his green eyes open and already starting to glaze over. Painfully thin, he wore only a large threadbare shirt and a pair of cavernous dirt brown pants. Several more letters written on brown paper littered the floor. They were his last thoughts captured before death. His desperate pleas for food and warmth would be imprinted on them forever. Minerva sobbed harshly, Harry Potter was dead. She would never again hear his voice, his laugh…watch his eyes light up. She had failed James and Lily in her vow to make sure their son was safe.

And it was this sight that brought Albus Dumbledore to his knees. Sitting on his heels, arms slack at his sides and eyes locked on the frozen body, he was the picture of despair. This had been his ward. He felt the crushing guilt that had come from playing a major part in the atrocity that had been Harry Potter's life. Years later, it would be this moment that he would look back on and say that, _"the greater good," _came at too high a price. Staring at the horrid consequences of his actions, Albus vowed to protect the lives of others as if they were his own. And then he wept. He wept for the young life he had lost. He wept for the poor boy he had failed.

Struggling through the grief, Minerva needed to take action. Her Harry was gone. Their decision to leave him in a family that had not known and had not wanted him burned in her memory. His once ever-twinkling eyes, permanently extinguished, stared blankly at what was left of Harry. Touching her lips to the cold forehead of her late godson, she gathered her resolve. Hearing Albus' broken whispers of, _'Harry,' _she hurried to Arabella's house to use the floo and summon the aurors.

It would take thirty minutes to explain what had happened through the sobs.

_**December 26, 1984 Just Past Midnight  
>Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey<strong>_

The front lawn of #4 Privet Drive was filled past capacity with aurors and politicians who had heard what had befallen the Boy Who Lived. Red-eyed aurors stood grim faced, corralling reporters in their attempt to gather facts. For the first time, magical people around the world were of one mind.

They thought of only a name.

Dursley.

The holiday cheer of 1984 was nonexistent, as wizards and witches everywhere, from England to as far as the United States and Japan, paid tribute to little Harry Potter. And unlike that Halloween night long ago, where the toasts were repeated with celebration, these were done with heavy hearts and choked tears. Everywhere glasses were raised in honor of Harry Potter.

"Al chico que vivió!"

"Au garçon qui a vécu!"

"Al ragazzo che ha vissuto!"

"生きた少年に"

"به اين پسر كه زندگي"

"To Little Harry Potter. To the Boy Who Lived!"

His letters written on half sheet brown pad paper from school were hung inside his cupboard, his childish writing enough to make the hardest man cry. A plaque was placed beside the door, and a preservation charm was cast inside the cupboard to preserve the surroundings of the boy who lived, so people might know how cruel life could be. The plaque read:

_**#4 Privet Drive**_

_**Here on December the 25th 1984, four-year-old Harry James Potter died. He left this world alone, suffering through the cold of winter and weak from the lack of food. Forgotten, he suffered in this cupboard-under-the-stairs, where he resided after defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when he was just fifteen months old. He spent his last hours pleading for help. The wizarding world mourns the death of its lost hero, and vows that this tragedy will never happen again.**_

The British Ministry of Magic decreed #4 Privet Drive a national memorial in honor of the Boy Who Lived. Minister Bagnold ordered the property warded and placed under official protection from all beings, magical and muggle.

And then there was only one thing left to do.

_**December 31, 1984 Lunch Time  
>Beach, Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands<strong>_

On a warm tropical island Vernon Dursley grumbled through the sand with his wife Petunia, both watching their son Dudley knock over sandcastles and run over blankets set down by other beach goers. Ignoring the complaints of people his son had offended, he thought, _'little tyke, going to be just like his father. Go ahead Dud, show'em whose boss'. _

"Dudley is headed towards the water Vernon, get him he doesn't know how to swim!" Petunia worried for her little Duddikins.

"C'mon Dud, not in the water!" Vernon yelled. Watching his son dash up the beach, he appreciated the fine young man he knew the fruit of his loins would turn out to be. Seeing a chance to catch his breath, he stood there thinking about going home and being around hard working folk who didn't have time for beach vacations, like himself. _'Goddamn Petunia, we could have just driven to the coast and saved the trouble'. _Those were his last thoughts before he felt a sharp pain in his chest.

Petunia Dursley watched confused as her husband fell face first into the sand, hoping it was just a terrible joke.

The Caribbean Ministry of Magic's Voodoo Department was glad to do its part for the late, "Boy Who Lived".

_**December 25, 1984 Time Unknown  
>Sector 2814, Orbiting only moon of Planet Earth<strong>_

'_Acceptance. Yes, that is the word. And what a good word it is, much better than resignation.'_ This is what the last surviving guardian thought as it felt its life fade. They had lost and now the Universe would suffer for their failure. They would feel the misery of lawlessness and chaos. Its thoughts turned somber as it remembered the deaths of its brothers and the Green Lanterns that carried their banner. Repeating the oath he had pledged his life to was the only thing that gave him the strength to continue on.

_'In brightest day, in blackest night...'_

_**December 25, 1984 Just Before Dinner Time  
>Cupboard under Stairs, #4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey<strong>_

Harry shivered, trying to get as much of his body as possible into the large shirt he wore. Earlier that week Harry had learned to write in the day school that his relatives had enrolled him and Dudley in. And the teacher made every child bring a whole pad of paper home to practice with. He was so excited that he forgot that the Dursleys were leaving on vacation and didn't remember to get some food into his cupboard before they left. As usual they locked him in, 3 nights ago, without bothering to leave him as much as a cup of water or piece of bread.

And now, this is where he was. Cold and alone. Using the pad of paper and a lone green crayon, he wrote to Santa. He heard from his classmates that Santa gave you what you asked for if you were good. After finishing his letter, he struggled to fall asleep, shivering and hungry. He woke up eagerly looking around to see if Santa Claus had come during the night, imagining a piece of freshly baked bread or a nice cup of water. Finding nothing, he would write another note and force himself to sleep despite the cold and aches in his stomach. Little Harry Potter kept this up for 3 days, repeating the cycle of writing and forcing himself to sleep, hoping the latest letter would be answered.

Sometimes his letter varied; wishing for a blanket as the temperatures plummeted or a cup of fresh hot water to warm himself. Others asked for someone to spend Christmas with, someone that would like having him around. Not once did it look like his letters were ever disturbed but he would try again and again, sometimes pleading desperately with whoever was listening. To pass the time he arranged his letters neatly on his small cupboard floor so that Santa could read through them easily when he finally arrived. He never gave up hope and continued writing even as his green crayon whittled down or the once thick pad of brown paper gave way to its last pages. Fortunately for him, there was someone that did take notice.

Once known as Ganthet, the last Guardian now floated just outside the Earth's atmosphere. And even on the verge of death, he could feel Harry's pain.

He sensed that the child possessed the most unique ability in the universe. Harry Potter could do what no other child, magical or muggle could. He had the ability to absorb the raw power that had once fueled every Green Lantern ring, into his tiny body. Realizing the young boy's potential and sensing his own imminent departure from this life, he used his wisdom to pool all of the near infinite cosmic power into a green glowing sphere and willed it to merge with the young boy. An amazing feat, the likes of which the villains Sinestro and Parallax could only dream of doing.

'_Destiny,'_ he mused to itself. There was no other explanation for it. What force in the universe could allow for such an occurrence in the Oan's darkest hour? _'An heir to us all brothers! May you use it well little one and may it protect you. All that we once were now resides in you Harry Potter, make us proud.'_

Ganthet felt joy that regardless of what happened to his body, willpower would live on in the universe; a beacon of light would remain, keeping the power and ideals of the now extinct Green Lantern Corps alive.

The Guardian, surrounded by a green energy field reached Harry Potter. Ganthet knew after giving him the collective power he still needed someone to care for and guide the boy, so with a burst of energy he sent a message to closest living being he could trust; John Stewart, a former Green Lantern. The guardian dropped in front of Harry Potter, relinquishing its power to what had become the future of hope and law.

Harry Potter arched his back, mouth open in a silent scream as the power entered his chest. His scar disappeared and his body mended itself inside the glowing green sphere. He fell into what appeared to be a coma, more exhausted than before. Exercising his own willpower, he sent the boy out of the house, soaring upwards into the sky wrapped in a protective green bubble.

As Ganthet lay dying, he used what remained of his life force to prepare for his last sleep. His final thoughts were on protecting the child that now carried with it the power to carry on the fight against evil. He knew Harry Potter would be hunted if he disappeared without a trace, so with the last bit of his reserves, his face and body slowly morphed until he was an exact replica of the child.

His purpose fulfilled, he fell to the mattress, dead.

_**December 25, 1985 After Dinner  
>Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting the Planet Earth<strong>_

On a holiday like Christmas, only the founders were on duty. With the rest of the members on call, it was a quiet Christmas night on the Watchtower. That was until alien energy was detected.

Alarms blared.

Followed by the Flash and Wonder Woman, John Stewart rushed to the dock bay and initialized the airlock in time to see the green sphere enter the Watchtower. Through the glare of green Lantern energy he could see the outline of a child-sized body. As the airlock was sealed, the green sphere vanished and the child fell, hitting the floor with a loud, resounding thud. Jarred by the crash, the small, dark-haired boy loosened his grip and let loose a small sheet of paper and a green crayon. Wonder Woman knelt and checked his vitals. "By Hera! John, he is not waking up!" she gasped.

"Let me carry him," Flash said. Tucking the child in his arms he streaked his way towards the medical bay.

Having already summoned the other founding members of the League, Diana picked up the note and, with John, set off after the Flash. The medical staff instantly went to work, trying to determine what was wrong with the otherwise healthy looking boy. The seven members of the founding council gathered in the observation theatre and watched the doctors work. Smoothing out the paper, Diana felt Batman at her side reading over her shoulder. Batman frowned and without a backward glance stalked towards the command center.

"What's got his cape in a twist?" Wally asked, as he and John appeared beside Diana.

"This," Diana said, holding the small paper. She, Wally, and John read what had infuriated Batman. The letter was written in green crayon, barely legible through the shakiness of the writer. It read:

**Deer Santa, I am riting for tree days now in my cupburd, and you donot answer. I no I am a bad freak and you have to visit the good boys firs, but plis can you give me some bread? I am very hungy now and aunt petunia locked my cupburd I cant not cook in the kiten. I am very hungy and col, plis send me a blanket, it dont hav to be like dudleys red one. I am getting really slepy and tired now, and my nails keep turnig blue. I will wait for you. My stomach hurts alot now. maybe hot water too? to help warm me... hungy col... mery kristmas Santa**

**hary poter**

Tears dropped onto the letter from Diana's face and she wrapped her arms around herself as she sobbed. She could not believe one so young and innocent could be treated so poorly in 'Man's world'. The letter was passed among the council, extinguishing the festive holiday mood.

_**December 25, 1984 9 PM  
>Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting the Planet Earth<strong>_

The Founders' Council found themselves in the conference room to discuss the story and situation of the mysterious Harry Potter. Superman paced behind his seat, he couldn't trust himself to stay still. After reading the letter to Santa Claus he had crushed a metal rail in his grip.

John Stewart started the meeting. "A few hours before the boy arrived I received a mental pulse only used by the Guardians of Oa, who we had all thought extinct. All that was mentioned was that someone needed immediate help. Even I was surprised when the boy passed through space enveloped with Lantern energy. And even though the bubble is gone I can still feel the Lantern energy around him. Not unusual when something is exposed to the Lantern energy. No other transmissions or messages have been sent."

"Yes, the energy that the child puts off is a mystery we have yet to resolve," J'onn J'onzz said. "But who is he and where will he go?"

None of them knew how to access the appropriate channels to look for the identity of the boy, or even what the appropriate channels were.

No one except for Batman.

"The boy's name is Harry James Potter. Son of the late Earl James Charlus Potter of Kent and Lily Potter nee Evans of England," Batman said, his voice flat. "Orphaned at fifteen months, all records indicate that he was sent to live with his maternal aunt and her family. Vernon and Petunia Dursley nee Evans who reside in Surrey, England."

"His family did this to him!" Diana surged up from her seat.

"Diana, enough!" Superman said, taking control of the meeting. Hands clasped behind him, he thought of a way to proceed. "First things first, he needs to get better before we can do anything. We will keep him here while we try to work out some sort of living situation for him."

"I will adopt him," Batman said from the corner. "The obvious living situation at his home rules out any return. And there is no information on any other family to claim him. He will be well taken care of and out of all of us here, my alternative identity is the only one capable of handling the attention of the sudden appearance of a mysterious orphaned boy."

While Batman protected his alter-ego fanatically for fear of retaliation, he had shared that secret with the Founders' Council long ago. And the fact that Bruce Wayne wanted to adopt a fellow orphan was not lost on them.

"Earl, huh? Guess that makes him royalty." The Flash wondered out loud.

"Nobility. He would have to be at least a duke to be considered royalty," Batman answered without taking his eyes of the image conjured up on the infirmary camera.

Diana's heart warmed at the thought that the stoic and aloof Batman would help a defenseless child and catching his attention she sent Bruce a beaming gaze, causing him to look away. Looking around and seeing nods of agreement from the others Superman said, "Agreed."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile in the medical bay, seven-year-old Kara Zor-El snuck quickly into Harry's room. Tall for her age, she wore jeans and a t-shirt Wally had given her on her first day on Earth, some band that she didn't know on its front. Her golden blonde hair was pulled back in a braid Diana helped her with so she could play. She slowly made her way to Harry, careful not to make any noise. New to this planet, she was often the center of attention and didn't take kindly to someone stealing the spotlight. And that was exactly what this newcomer had done upon arriving earlier that day. Pulling herself onto the bed she stared down at the sleeping boy.<p>

He was so small. And her cousin Kal-El told her that the humans were not as strong as her. Fragile he said. So she had to be careful when playing with the others, especially children like herself.

"Wake up. C'mon, wake up!" Kara was getting bored, and fast. Making sure to be gentle she started poking the sleeping boy's face and pulling back his eyelids, hoping for some reaction that would keep her entertained. But nothing happened. His breathing stayed even and relaxed.

After losing interest, she started to climb off the bed, not noticing Harry blinking his eyes open. A quick whispered, "Hi," was all it took to send Kara tumbling. A yelped, "Eeep," escaped her lips as she fell off the bed in a rather graceless fashion. Pulling herself up, she glared at the boy who had already fallen back asleep.

_**December 29, 1984 11:15 AM  
>Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting the Planet Earth<strong>_

Harry woke up, feeling rested and warm for the first time that he could remember. He didn't want to get out of bed. Santa must have read his letters and had come for him. Opening his eyes, everything seemed blurry, _'Hmm, I wonder where my glasses are.' _Reaching up to his face he felt them on his nose. Carefully taking them off he was shocked. He could see well without his glasses. Grinning widely he tossed them on the bed. No one was around to notice his eyes pulse a with very faint green light when he smiled.

He jumped off the bed and looked around the weird white room, careful not to touch the beeping equipment. He saw buttons on the wall and wondered if it was a lift, pressing the first one he jumped back when a wall slid to the side, revealing a long corridor. He looked around curiously then padded silently into the hallway, barefoot and wearing only the white pajamas he assumed that Santa must have given him. He smiled, his clothes actually fit for once.

"I'm in Santa's house!" Little Harry yelled with glee until a green man phased through the wall. "HOLLLEEE," Harry yelped out before he fell flat on his bum.

"I knew you were awake," the bald green man said with a smile.

Harry just sat there wide eyed, unmoving. He wasn't sure if he was having a dream or a nightmare.

J'onn just watched him, quietly waiting so as not to scare him off.

"You're a…" Harry stuttered out, confused. Then he got it. He remembered a show on the television about aliens. "A Martian! You're a Martian right?"

"Yes," J'onn J'onzz said, amused.

"Oh, wow," Harry replied. Then he said. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter sir." Holding out a hand for the large green man to shake like he had seen his Uncle Vernon do.

"Hello Harry, you can call me J'onn, like the rest of my friends." This caused Harry to beam at him; he had never had any friends.

"Now I'm sure you're hungry, let's go back to the medical wing so the doctors can feed you. Then maybe I will introduce you to Kara," J'onn replied.

Harry scrunched up his nose, thinking seriously, before he glanced up at the Green Martian and said in a solemn small voice, "Thank you." J'onn nodded, and he was surprised when the small boy grabbed his hand as they walked. They started their walk back to the medical bay.

A panicked looking Amazonian princess ran from one of the rooms, and seeing Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Harry! Never do that again! You made us worry!" Diana said. Not realizing that her voice was a bit loud, she instantly regretted it when she saw how Harry reacted. He froze, face paling as he thought he was in trouble.

"I'm sorry miss. I didn't know I was supposed to stay in there. I'll go back now." He slowly stepped out from behind J'onn's legs.

"Sorry Mister J'onn, I can't eat anything right now. I have to go back to my room," Harry said, talking to his feet.

J'onn felt the fear and sorrow flow from the boy. It seemed that Harry was certain he wasn't going to eat today. The years of torment and discipline had conditioned him to expect this sort of treatment from adults.

Teary-eyed, Harry quickly ran into his room, careful to avoid any swings from behind.

"You must be careful how you treat the little one Diana. He has lived a life full of pain. He thinks it will come from everyone because of his family," J'onn gently reminded her.

Diana just watched the door that Harry had rushed through. Even without J'onn's telepathic powers, she could make out the fear of being struck as he walked away. And she knew she had caused that fear to awaken in him.

_**December 29, 1984 12:30 PM  
>Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting the Planet Earth<strong>_

Harry Potter could not believe it. In all of his life, he could never remember it happening to him. He had seen it happening to other children, usually when they were sick or hurt, and wishing it were him. But it had never happened and now that it was he didn't want it to stop.

For the first time that he could remember, Harry was being carried.

After Diana had come into his room and explained that she wasn't mad, just worried that when she came looking for him he was gone. She told him that this place was big and she did not want him to get lost or for anything to happen to him.

And this was where he found himself. He leaned back from the very tall woman. She had long flowing black hair, pulled back to leave her face bare. Harry thought she was the prettiest woman he had ever seen. So taken in by her kindness towards him and shocked that he was on her hip, he didn't pay attention to where she was taking him.

He was still lost in a daze when they entered the dining hall. There was only tables, chairs and a long counter separating three employed cooks from the high-powered heroes they served. It was at this time that Harry was introduced to the Justice League's Founding Council.

Feeling her stop Harry cast a look around, unblinking and mouth agape, he stared. Even a four-year-old living in England who was not allowed to watch TV recognized these people. He instinctively burrowed his head in Diana's neck.

Seeing that the boy was not going introduce himself, Diana spoke first.

"Everyone, this is Harry. He is being a little shy right now so don't overwhelm him. Let's all introduce ourselves, ok?

"Harry, like I already told you, my name is Diana. But some people on Earth call me Wonder Woman." This caused Harry to whip his head around from where he was staring at Superman. _'Wonder Woman!'_ He was in the arms of Wonder Woman. He had no idea.

"Over there is J'onn but you already met him. You know that he is from Mars right?" She watched him nod and turn to J'onn to wave.

"Ok, that is John Stewart. He used to be known as the Green Lantern. Now he is the analyst for all of our missions."

"Hello, Mr. Stewart. Nice to meet you." John smiled back at him.

The Flash walked up to Harry before he could be introduced and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, the Flash at your service," he drawled in a terrible imitation of a British accent.

Then Superman walked up and smacked him in the back of the head, causing Harry to giggle. Diana let him down to stand in front of everyone.

"This is Superman." And Harry could not stop staring. Superman was everything Harry wished he could be, strong, brave, loved by all. To be honest Harry would have just settled for the last.

"And the last…is…" She tried to see if the last member was somewhere behind the others but he couldn't be found.

"Here." Harry turned from smiling at everyone to see the scariest sight he had ever seen.

A demon was standing behind Wonder Woman. Cloaked in black, its eyes were white slits. He stood there frozen, eyes wide. Diana took pity on him, knowing that seeing the Batman the first time could scare anyone.

"This is Batman Harry." The only response from the boy was to take a step back. He had heard of the Batman. He hadn't seen pictures of him like he had of the rest of the Justice League but stories were even passed around by preschoolers. How Batman would swoop down from out of the shadows and snatch the bad people. Needless to say he was scared.

Seeing the reaction, Batman knelt down and looked back at him. Eye to eye, Batman extended his hand causing Harry's eyes to pop to a dangerous point.

Harry, in keeping with his reaction to seeing the Dark Knight for the first time, pitched backwards and fainted. Wonder Woman barely caught him as she rolled her eyes at Batman's need for the cloak and shadow routine.

"Nice job Bats," Flash snickered. "He is the first person you've killed just by being you." Then he winced when he felt a Kryptonian hand smack his head again.

Superman called everyone to order. "Ok, let's all get back to our responsibilities. Bruce has a great deal to explain to Harry and we should give them the space to do it." Nods were the only reaction, and they all filed out. All except Diana.

Batman looked at her expectantly. Her reaction was to raise an eyebrow and say, "You couldn't talk to him for two minutes without him fainting from fear. What exactly makes you think that I would leave you alone for this?" That caused him to pause.

Seeing she had made her point Diana gently shook the boy awake. Watching the most remarkable green eyes she had seen come into focus, she was glad she had stayed. The boy immediately tensed at sight of Batman.

"Bruce, if this is going to work then you have to show him you are not a monster." She looked at him like a teacher would look at a student who was too stubborn to admit he was wrong.

With a sigh, Batman pulled back his cowl revealing his face to the boy.

When Harry realized that he was just a man in a mask it wasn't so scary. Though Harry didn't realize it, there was a passing resemblance between them.

"Harry, my name is Bruce Wayne." Seeing no reaction he thought, _'guess I'm not as famous as I thought'._ He continued, "I live in Gotham City, in America. You know where that is right?" A confused nod was all he was given in reply. Harry did not know why he was being told this.

"Well I wanted to know whether you wanted to come to my home and stay for a while." This made the small boy's brow furrow.

"Why?" Harry whispered.

"I know how your relatives treated you Harry." The boy tensed again and gripped tightly onto Wonder Woman's hand. "If you let me I will make sure you are taken care of like you deserve."

"Really?" He looked to Diana to confirm the truthfulness of the offer. Seeing her nod he worried. "Will I get to see Miss Diana again?"

Wonder Woman laughed, "Of course Harry I will come over every chance I get. Won't I Bruce?" she asked with a teasing smile.

Narrowing his eyes at her Bruce said, "Yes Harry, Diana and the rest of the league will be able to visit you. And they come over quite a lot. So if you want," Bruce said rising to his feet, he replaced his cowl and offered his hand, "we can go now and I can introduce you to the man that raised me." Harry took his hand with complete trust that only a small child could give.

"Where are we going Mr. Bruce?"

"Home Harry. I'm going to take you home."

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	3. Growing Up Wayne

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

**Disclaimer:** It's not mine. So don't tell anyone it is.

**A/N: **Flashbacks are used in this chapter. For the memories the usage of italics are reversed; ordinary dialogue and narrative is in italics and thoughts are not.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: Growing Up Wayne<strong>

_**August 1 1985 10 AM  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

"But Clark, I don't wanna!" Kara was almost begging, she could not understand why she wasn't allowed to be in the Watchtower by herself.

"Kara, you know the deal we made. When I have to run errands you stay here where Alfred can keep an eye on you. Besides, you need to have someone your own age around and Harry is here by himself, too," Clark explained.

Kara whined, "But I don't wanna be here. It's so creepy. I mean have you flown around? There are so many bats here. And Harry is not my age, he's like three." She huffed offended. "Did you know he always follows me around, asking me if I want to play or read. As if." Clark rolled his eyes. The girl had taken to Earth's culture with a vengeance.

"No, you are staying here. I already promised Diana you would be here to play with Harry. He doesn't get to go out much and being around other people besides Alfred and Bruce will do him good. Besides, he doesn't know any other kids." Clark turned her around and raised her chin to look at him. "Speaking of, I want you to try and be nicer to Harry. He had a hard time before he came to live with Bruce and I don't want you making it worse by picking on him," Clark said, his expression stern to convey the seriousness of his demand.

"Fine, but I'm not gonna like it," she declared, crossing her arms in protest, already planning her escape from Alfred and Harry. She was sure that an old butler and some annoying little kid couldn't stop her from finding a way back to the Watchtower.

Kara never made it back to the Watchtower. Alfred seemed to know whenever she was going to make a break for it, always appearing just as she was preparing to fly away. And it didn't help that a persistently annoying five-year-old followed her wherever she went, constantly asking questions about what she was doing and where she was going.

_**August 5 1985 Early Afternoon  
>Guest Room, Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

'_Four days? Four days! He said he would pick me up in the morning. What mission could possibly take Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman four days to complete.' _Kara was beside herself with boredom. A Kryptonian girl could only take being stuck inside for so long. _'I mean, I can fly. I'm super strong. Why in the name of the House of El do I need to be babysat?'_

* * *

><p>"I don't think she likes me Alfred." Harry stared despondently at the kitchen counter top. He could not understand why Kara didn't want to be his friend. He was nice to her, polite just like Miss Diana told him to be but she always brushed him off or ignored him until he went away. He had never made friends with kids his own age before, with his cousin scaring away anyone that talked to him, and it didn't seem like things were getting any better.<p>

Alfred lowered the heat and turned from the pot he had been stirring. "Master Harry, she is as new to this place as you are. Give her time to adjust and I am sure you two will be the best of friends."

"Do you think so?"

Alfred Pennyworth gazed fondly at the boy he considered a grandson. With everything that happened to Master Bruce, he had lost hope that he would be able to see one last generation of Wayne children be raised in the manor. Thomas and Bruce Wayne were both giants among men; one man gave care to his city, the other gave hope. And he held high hopes for this latest generation of Wayne men.

However, this was a problem he had never experienced with a young Master Bruce. Before his parents were murdered, Bruce was a social butterfly. He never had a problem making friends. The confidence that could only have come from his wealthy background gave him an almost princely bearing. A natural charm his mother had called it. And after the horrific night in that alley, all of the enthusiasm was gone. The shocking murder left only crushing guilt and a laser-like focus. There were no more outings, no more playing with friends; just a lot of time spent crying and staring out the window at the family cemetery.

But Harry was special. Even after the horrifying years he spent in the care of his relatives he retained an innocence and compassion not usually seen in abused children. He was easy to like, never troublesome and always looking to help. And once he was introduced to people that cared about him he began blossoming into a playful child but Alfred could see that the emotional scars were still there.

What Master Bruce did with charisma born through generations of breeding and high society, Master Harry did with a shy smile and soft words. And still the two of them were so very similar. Both born into affluent families, both victims of a brutal world at such tender ages and yet both were still strong. _'Yes,'_ Alfred thought to himself, _'high hopes indeed'._

Alfred was brought out of his musings by the desolate tone in his young charge.

"How Alfred? Whenever I try to invite her to play or read she always just laughs and walks away."

"Just be patient Master Harry. Let her get used to being here and she will come to you in her own time."

"Ok Alfred. But do I leave her alone until then? What if she never wants to be my friend?"

"Until then Master Harry, just be polite. She will need a friend eventually." Harry nodded, resigned.

_**September 26 1985 Dinner Time  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

Kindergarten had just started for the newest Wayne. The sudden appearance of a new Wayne just after the New Year had led to many speculations about his origin. Bruce had released a statement telling the public that Harrison Wayne was his son and that his existence had been kept private for security reasons. The Gotham Rogues big win in the Super Bowl was relegated to a small one liner on the second page in favor of a dark photo that was supposedly Harrison Wayne.

Fuzzy pictures appeared in local newspapers; editorials and talk shows had done pieces on the mysterious Wayne heir. So when word spread that the camera shy boy was being enrolled in school, the press clamored to get any information they could find. They knew that the first person to get a clear picture or even the name of his mother would have scooped the story of the year.

Harry was enrolled in the most prestigious funnel school that Gotham had to offer, Montgomery Academy. This school catered to the children of diplomats and the extremely wealthy, like Bruce Wayne.

Harry showed some reluctance in having to leave Wayne Manor. The shy attitude towards going out confused his guardian. Harry had never been agoraphobic and had taken to meeting other people naturally. They had danced around the issue until Bruce cornered him the day before school was supposed to start. He found Harry in one of his favorite places in Wayne Manor.

_Flashback_

_Bruce walked into the library where Harry was struggling though a children's book on his own. He leaned against the doorframe and watched for a few minutes._

"_You know if you went to school you wouldn't have a problem with that book," he said, pulling Harry away from his reading. Looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Harry watched his adopted parent._

_Bruce continued, "The teachers would help you with reading, math and you would even make friends." He walked over to the couch Harry was laying on and sat down. "So I can't s_e_e a reason why you don't want to go."_

_Harry looked down and started playing with the hem of his t-shirt._

"_I think it's because you're scared." Emerald eyes shot to meet his. _

"_So I asked myself what could Harry possibly be afraid of at school. And then it hits me." He thumbed Harry's chin to lift his gaze from where it had fallen. "You aren't afraid of the school, are you? You're scared of what will happen once you leave here." Harry nodded, the mask falling away._

"_Don't make me leave Bruce. Please, I really love it here." Harry's heart was breaking. The time he had spent in this home was the most fun he'd ever had and he couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to drop. Once Bruce had told him that he would have to go to school he was sure he was coming to the end of his stay._

"_You don't ever have to be afraid of that Harry. You will always be able to come back here. This is your home."_

_Bruce scooped him up and placed him on his lap. He had seen Diana do this many times and he knew Harry seemed to enjoy it._

"_We are a family, Harry; you, me, Alfred and even Diana and all your friends in the League. You will always have a family here."_

_If he had been looking at Harry he would have seen a look of wonder sprout on the boy's face. "At the end of every day Alfred is going to pick you up in front of the school, just like any other boy, and drive you home."_

"_Do you promise?"_

"_I do. And nothing in this world is going to make me break that promise. But you have to do something for me, ok?" At Harry's nod Bruce continued, "When something like this happens I need you to talk to me, ok? I can't help if I don't know if something's wrong. Got it?" he finished, looking eye-to-eye, causing Harry to nod frantically._

"_Now let's go get you ready for bed. We wouldn't want you to be tired for your first day of school tomorrow, would we?" He felt better watching Harry smile, for what seemed like the first time in days. Following Harry out of the library he stopped, staring at the door._

"_I was sure that Alfred said he locked the library." Looking down, he saw a look of innocence no five-year-old could fake._

"_That was what Alfred told me, but I really wanted to read so I tried the door and it swung open."_

'Swung open?' _Bruce thought in disbelief. All of the doors in the manor were solid wood and all had been fitted with stainless steel locks. The odds of the lock just popping open were incredible. But the only explanation left was that Harry had somehow worked the lock. And that was a thought he could not believe._

"_Swung open? Harry, what really happened?"_

"_I swear Bruce. That's the truth. I didn't do anything but turn the knob." _'Phenomenal acting skills,' _Bruce thought._

"_Ok little one, keep your secrets." He ruffled his ever-messy hair and walked him back to his room._

_**October 31 1985 Breakfast  
>Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

"A few announcements before we start the day. First, a reminder that the Halloween Feast will start this evening at six o'clock sharp. So please be prompt. Second, all Transfiguration classes for today have been cancelled. Any issues regarding Gryffindor House can be brought to my attention. Now, everyone hurry to your classes." Albus spoke to the children of Hogwarts with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Watching as the students headed to their classes he gingerly sat back down, rubbing the bridge of his nose, his thoughts on his Transfiguration professor.

Halloween was celebrated with gusto and cheer. A testament to the heritage and tradition passed down between magic users. It was a night of ritual and ceremony and, with the anniversary of the defeat of the most powerful Dark Lord in recent memory, it became even more of a festive night. But to the few that were close to the Potters, it was a time that would forever be marked by the loss of two great friends and the toddler they left behind.

"Bill, why doesn't McGonagall have class on Halloween?" Gryffindor second year Charlie Weasley turned to ask his brother and housemate.

Bill Weasley stared at the Head Table, having never really thought about it. "There hasn't been a Transfiguration class on Halloween since I've been here. Maybe she just goes out celebrating the night You-Know-Who lost.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I bet everyone is gonna go out celebrating tonight."

* * *

><p>Unlike the festivities that pervaded the rest of the castle, the private quarters of Minerva McGonagall were a somber place.<p>

With a glass of Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey in one hand and a picture of the late Potters in the other, she was not concerned about the early hour. Minerva had done this every Halloween since their deaths, always remaining sequestered, and drowned her sorrows in expensive liquor, drinking to their memory. But this was an especially difficult year. This was the first anniversary of James and Lily's death since their son had followed them on into the afterlife.

Every night since their death she had drank herself into a stupor; consoled in the fact that she had a piece of them left in this world. The most precious thing they had left behind would return to her when he started school. She often dreamt about seeing the messy black hair and the sparkling green eyes resting under the Sorting Hat. Her godson would return to her and she would rejoice. But alas, fate had taken away even that small sliver of happiness on the horizon.

Now she not only mourned the loss of two of her best friends but the death of their son and the life that should have been theirs.

Trying to refill her glass, she upturned an empty bottle and sighed. Shaking her head she staggered her way to the cupboard for more firewhiskey. Wrapping her fingers around the bottleneck she was interrupted by a knock at the door.

It was a combination of not thinking of who might be at her door and not caring about being caught pished by a student that led her to answer with a bottle of Ogden's in her hand.

To her ever mounting displeasure it was the compassionate face of Albus Dumbledore.

"Is there something you require, Headmaster?" she sneered, holding herself with more dignity than one should have after drinking two bottles of whiskey.

"Minerva, I've just come to see how you are doing. I know how hard today is and wanted to see if I could help in any way," he said, following her into her office as she turned to retrieve her glass.

She closed her eyes, wishing that this were some drunken hallucination that would disappear as suddenly as it appeared. _'Help?'_ She could not believe the gall of this man.

She turned, knuckles white on the bottle and stared him down. "Yes, you can help. You can turn around, leave and close the door behind you. As I have made it abundantly clear, I desire no company. Least of all yours."

"Please, Minerva, just let m-"

"PROFESSOR McGONAGALL!" Her chest heaved. The potent mix of firewhiskey and grief had shattered her self-control, freeing her to vent her feelings on the man she blamed for her anguish. "You will call me Professor McGonagall. Only my friends may call me Minerva, Headmaster. And you can no longer call yourself my friend." She left the shot glass and went straight for a goblet. Pouring herself a substantial measure, she drank the entire glass without a problem. Then she turned back to the man at her door.

"You want to help? Bring Harry back to me. He should be with people who love him today. No? Well then, go back and stop yourself from leaving him with those…those…animals. If you can't do that then I want nothing to do with you."

Hands shaking with emotion, she poured herself another glass. What she heard next made her lose control of her tightly held anger.

"I am so very sorr-."

"Sorry? You're sorry?" She whipped the glass at the wall and clenched her hands into fists, not allowing him a chance to speak. "Why don't you tell Harry you're sorry? Tell him that you're sorry that you refused the opinions of others in his life and placed him in that hell. Tell him that you're sorry for never checking on him. For letting him starve and freeze to death in a home where he was supposed to be safe."

Minerva looked at the defeated expression on Dumbledore's face and felt a pained satisfaction. She was not done and she was going to make sure she was not alone in her misery tonight.

"Did you know I see them every time I close my eyes? The day they asked me to be stand for him and be his godmother. And every time, I see his eyes…how he was stari-," She broke off with a sob. Tears flowed down her face and her hand went for her wand. "I gave my word. I swore that I would look after their son like he was my own should anything happen to them. Then I turned around and passed him along to a family that had never met him before. And I did it because I trusted you! Believe me; I will never make that mistake again." Sparks were flying involuntarily from her wand, highlighting her frayed self-control.

She held her wand loosely at her side. "Now if there isn't anything else. Please leave, Headmaster."

Dumbledore hesitated. One wrong word could cause this argument to become a duel. That alone did not worry Albus, for he knew that even a fully enraged Minerva McGonagall could not best him in a fight. His pause came from what would happen to what remained of their friendship if spells were cast.

His face a blank mask, he replied softly, "Very well." Closing the door, he heard the shuddering breaths of his friend trying to control herself.

He would enter his office in time to see a lone figure make its way to the edge of the school grounds and disappear.

* * *

><p>Kneeling before the headstones, Minerva traced the names and dates that were carved as unforgettably into the stone as they were in her memory.<p>

There are events so profound and enormous that you can remember exactly where you were and what you were doing when you heard the news. Those events changed your life.

_July 31 1980_

_Those who knew her knew not to interrupt her summer vacation for anything short of an emergency. Being shaken awake very early one morning by a small thing leaning over her was not a way she would enjoy her holiday. But her ire disappeared when the Potter elf informed her that its Mistress had gone into labor. "Master baby coming," was all that was said before it popped out again, leaving her scrambling for clothes and floo powder._

_A long wait that lasted well into the night had seen much worrying from her and much pacing from Sirius. But the act of holding her newborn godson made all the anxieties vanish. That was the day she fell in love with Harry James Potter._

_October 31 1981_

_It was amazing what a quiet night could hide._

_She could remember exactly what she had done that night. After a sublime feast, she retreated to her office to finish grading essays. Try as she might she could not ignore the electricity in the air. She put it down to the significance of such a magical day in a very magical castle. She would never know that Fate was present in the world that day._

_She had turned in early that night, planning to finish the rest of her papers on the lazy Sunday morning that awaited her the next day. She never realized that just as she was falling asleep Lord Voldemort was beginning his assault on Potter Cottage._

_December 25 1984_

_All of the deaths during the war, the terrible Halloween night, the fear the world felt; all of it would pale in comparison to this night. She would never celebrate Christmas again._

_Christmas Dinner was always a special affair. Set deep in Scotland, Hogwarts and the surrounding village of Hogsmeade became a picturesque town covered in flaky white snow._

_She was finishing up Yuletide correspondence to her last distant relatives of clan McGonagall when she heard her name being shouted desperately through the floo. She didn't know that she would be burying another part of her family alone that night._

_Laying Lily and James to rest was a dark day. As the last of their close friends, the responsibility fell to her to see them respectfully interred._

_Remus had fallen into alcohol when the news of his friends demise reached his ears. That the only people to show any love to a young werewolf since his parents had passed was cause enough for him to lose himself._

_Peter was last seen confronting Sirius and screaming traitor on November 1st 1981. Never having been a gifted wizard, he was easily bested. With naught left but a finger, he was given a hero's funeral._

_Sirius Black was currently serving a life sentence in Azkaban Prison for his multitude of crimes. The murder of Peter Pettigrew and the thirteen unnamed muggles led to his wand being snapped and him being tossed in a cell without a trial. He hadn't even heard of the fate of his godson._

Kneeling in front of the statue of the young family, she felt the terrible truth; she was alone in her grief.

_**November 25 1985  
>Batcave, Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

"Zee, I don't want to hear this." Bruce rubbed his face. The argument was becoming tiresome.

"Well Bruce, you wouldn't need to hear this if you would just get off your ass. Everyone can see it and I am starting to wonder why anyone calls you the _World's Greatest Detective,_" Zatanna said with a smug smile on her face. She knew she had scored a point.

"And you know why that can't happen or have you forgotten the types of people I deal with, the things this city has to deal with."

"Oh, I know exactly how Gotham is Bruce." The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes. Zatanna Zatara was Bruce's oldest friend; and the only friend that he kept after the death of his parents. And by happy coincidence she was also the strongest magic user in the Justice League. But tonight she was playing Devil's Advocate, wondering why exactly he couldn't begin a relationship with a certain super strong Amazon. "But you need to realize that while you have a secret identity, she does too. If Wonder Woman isn't good enough to handle the trouble that comes along with knowing you, then who is?"

"Zee, this isn't what you wanted to talk about, is it?" he asked, eliciting a sigh of resignation from the magician.

"Fine, fine. Everything is clear. And there are no signs of trouble from Darkseid. And any other baddies are keeping a low profile."

"Good…now I have to go. I'm expecting Kara over to play with Harry today. Which means I need to make sure that everything is locked tight or those two will find a way to wreak havoc."

"Ok, but you know I still haven't met the mysterious Harry."

"Whenever you get around to visiting I'm sure that an opportunity will present itself. Until then I think you're on your own."

"Yes, I will need to introduce him to Aunt Zatara, or is it Aunti-"

"Yes Zee. Goodbye." He cut off her rambling and turned off the video communicator. His thoughts turned to Diana.

It was true that he had developed feelings of a romantic nature towards her. Not that the fact was so surprising. Aside from her stunning good looks, she was strong, smart, fiercely loyal and one of the few people in the world that he could include in his life fully.

There was no doubt that Wonder Woman could survive alongside Batman, but he wondered if Diana could survive alongside Bruce.

**December 1 1985 Evening  
>Metro General Hospital, Gotham City<strong>

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The steady beat from the heart monitor could be heard in the private room. The rhythm was only matched by the labored breathing of the young boy in the bed.

He was joined by a dark-haired man that sat at his bedside. Hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees, he stared at the boy. The past few hours had been a blur with visits from friends and consultations with doctors.

He couldn't make out the words that were being said to him, he caught only disjointed phrases. Get well. Here for you. Call us with any news.

The doctor's words were harder to catch. Pneumonia. Touch and go. Stabilized. Any day now. He acknowledged the doctors diagnosis with only nods and grunts, not once taking his eyes off the boy on the bed.

Harry had been admitted to the Emergency Room four days ago with a high fever that refused to go down and Bruce had stayed with him from the beginning. Alfred had accompanied him of course, concern showing on his face. Diana had stayed nearly as long as Bruce. She spent her time holding Harry's hand and trying to get some response from Bruce. An urgent call from the Watchtower had pulled her away, and she only left once she had secured a promise from Alfred that they would contact her should anything change.

And then there was Kara. Unusually quiet during her visits, which she made every day, she stayed by Harry's bedside from morning til night when Alfred would take her back to Wayne Manor.

_Flashback_

_This was turning out to be a long weekend for Kara._

_Again she was being dumped at Wayne Manor. Again she was being forced to put up with Harry. And again she would have no one to complain to other than Alfred._

_The visit started as it normally did, with her ignoring everything Harry was saying and locking herself in the guest room set aside for her. She thought she could survive this stay, because she had her music and a TV and some much needed alone time. That idea vanished as quickly as it came when she heard a knock on the door. She knew of only one person here that would knock that quietly._

"_Go away Harry." She heard shuffling in the hallway as if the person outside the door was unsure whether to stay or go, so she made it clear. "I don't want to play. I don't want to read. I just want to be left alone."_

"_Please Kara. I promise we'll play whatever you want."_ 'Whatever I want, huh?'

_She got up and opened the door, catching a glance of a very surprised looking Harry. With a shrewd look that the boy had no chance of understanding she said, "I don't know Harry. I'm not sure that you're big enough to play games with me. I don't want you cry to Alfred when you lose." This challenge received a round of frantic head shaking._

"_I won't. I won't." He was excited. He was getting his chance, finally._

"_Ok, we'll start off easy. Let's play hide and seek. And it's my turn to hide." Discreetly grabbing a magazine and her music she headed for the door. "I'm gonna hide and once you finish counting to one hundred you have to come find me. If you cheat or quit then I won't play with you again. Got it?"_

_More frantic nods. "Well then, I'll go hide then. Remember to count." And then she took off down the hallway. She only had one place in mind and it would give her hours of peace. Once she got outside she pushed off the ground and flew up to the topmost window of the manor. From Alfred she knew that the massive attic was barely used and always locked, Harry would never find her here._

_She sat there listening to music and reading her magazine when she felt a tap on her shoulder._

"_Kara. Kara."_

_She jumped at the surprise. "Aaahh! Don't do that Harry!"_

"_Sorry, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I found you and now it's my turn, right?"_

"_How did you get in here?"_

"_Through the door." Now she was confused. She made sure the door was locked._

_He bounced on his toes. "My turn right?"_

_She nodded and said, "Go. You have to hide outside because the house is my base. Don't come out until I find you." And he took off laughing. _'And finally left alone,' _she thought. She had no intention of looking for him and with the headphones back in, she never heard the first clap of thunder._

_Having completely forgotten about Harry, Kara walked down for dinner. In the kitchen she greeted Alfred and sat down to eat._

_Alfred left her to check on Harry who had still not shown up for the meal. He returned a few minutes later with a look of worry._

"_Miss Kara, do you know where Master Harry is? He isn't in his room and I can't find him in any of the other rooms."_

_She shook her head. "No, I haven't seen him since lunch."_

"_Well, why don't you take a walk outside and see if you can't find him wandering around. Maybe he went for a walk, he likes the grounds after it rains. I'll check to make sure he hasn't fallen asleep reading somewhere."_

_She froze. _'Rain? No, he wouldn't. No one is that stupid.'_ Just wearing jeans and a t-shirt, she raced outside. _'Harry, where are you?' _She made it to the tree line of the forest that surrounded Wayne Manor when she saw a house slipper peeking out from behind a tree._

"_Harry."_

_Drenched, shivering and curled up behind the tree, he looked up at the sound of her voice. "You found me." His shivering was getting worse with the chill of November still in the air. She watched as he struggled to get up and walked towards her._

"_I guess it's your turn now."_

"_Harry, you are freezing. Let's get back and have Alfred look at you."_

"_Ok…thanks Kar-." He fell forward into her, limp. Thanks to her Kryptonian strength, she lifted him easily into her arms and flew back to the manor screaming for Alfred._

_End Flashback_

The next few days were very tense. When Bruce learned of Harry's condition his friends saw him lose his temper with Alfred for the first time. And he had not spoken since.

The thought_, 'Harry, you just can't have a normal Christmas can you?' _raced through Bruce's mind.

A soft whisper of, "Bruce," broke the quiet.

And like a shot, Bruce was out of his chair and by Harry's bedside holding his hand. "I'm here Harry," he said, stroking back his hair. "I'm here."

**December 3 1985 Early Evening  
>Metro General Hospital, Gotham City<strong>

More lively and upbeat now that his strength was returning, Harry was anxious to leave the hospital. He had grown weary of the constant stream of visitors and well-wishers and was more than ready to go home. Bruce was making arrangements to get him home past the throng of reporters outside the hospital, and had gone to get a more unconventional means of transportation for the next day. Not expecting any visitors for the rest of the day he was surprised when Kara walked into the room.

Slowly making her way to Harry, she stopped a step away from the bedside chair. "Hi Harry."

"Hi Kara."

She hesitated before she sat down in the chair that had been Bruce's. She looked up at him, teary-eyed and started to ramble, "I'm so sorry Harry. I'm so sorry." She could not stop crying. She had never been so terrified as when he collapsed in her arms. She knew it was her fault; she had almost caused him to die.

"I didn't mean to make you stay out there in the storm. I thought you would just give up and quit." She rested laid her head on her arms near Harry's legs. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

She felt a hand on her arms. "Kara," Harry said, causing her to look up, "of course I forgive you, that's what friends do, right?"

She grabbed his hand. "Of course Harry, friends."

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	4. The Courting of Bruce Wayne

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I have gained nothing but satisfaction from this story and hopefully a few more reviews.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: The Courting Of Bruce Wayne<strong>

_**July 21 1988 Morning  
>Garden, Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

"I told you that you wouldn't catch me, Harry," 11 year-old Kara Zor-El screamed back to the boy running behind her.

Slightly out of breath, Harry panted, "That's not fair. Of course you're faster than me. I have met your cousin, Kara. You have all that alien strength." Harry pouted, causing Kara to laugh.

Still taller than him, the race was hardly fair even without her special powers. In their relationship she was undoubtedly the brawn. Seeing the red in his face Kara stopped and walked back to tousle his hair. "Don't worry champ, you'll get there someday, maybe. But for now, you're still gonna be the Baby Bat."

"WHAT! Baby Bat! Don't call me that or…"

"Or? Or what? What will you do Baby Bat?" Then, seeing the look in his eyes, she hesitated.

"Oh, I don't know Kara. Maybe something like-." And then he pounced. Even with her super-human strength and speed, she still couldn't stand against the knowledge Harry had of her most ticklish areas. She struggled underneath him, squirming to get away from what seemed, to her, to be a major weakness. "Baby Bat? How's that for Baby Bat, huh?"

"If…you don't…like…Baby Bat…what about…Mini-Bat?" she panted in between laughs. "Or…Bat Jr…or…Batman and his…Fantastic…Micro Bat."

In the time since Harry's hospital stay and the start of their friendship, Kara's influence caused Harry to come out of his shell. No longer painfully shy and eager to please, he began acting the way an outgoing seven-almost eight year-old boy should. Cheeky and stubborn, he enjoyed playing with others and wasn't afraid to cause a little bit of mischief. And if you listened to Alfred, he had an extraordinary talent for finding trouble.

As time passed, Kara and Harry grew up, spending more time together in Wayne Manor and the Watchtower. It had become an inside joke among the League members that where you spotted one, the other was close by, and wherever they went you were sure to hear a loud crash or childish squeals of delight. Harry's restlessness often started their little adventures and Kara's strength and flight made them reach levels of trouble not normally seen by two children, usually resulting in some spectacular accident.

Being a Kryptonian on Earth was a heavy burden to bear, it meant that Kara had to hold back her natural abilities when interacting with humans. As hard as it was for an adult like Clark, who had years of experience, it was almost impossible for a child. This forced her cousin to make the tough choice of limiting her time with others her own age. She had to that point spent most of her time in Smallville and the Watchtower, only mixing with people that knew of her powers, like the Kents, or others like herself, who could match her strength.

Being isolated from others caused her to become moody and irritable, both of which Harry could attest to. That was what made their relationship invaluable. In Harry, Kara had an outlet to let herself go, a safe place where she did not need to hide who she was or what she could do. And Harry had someone whose energetic personality and constant need to do things allowed him to truly blossom.

"I won't be Bat-anything. I fly solo," Harry told Kara triumphantly, straddling her stomach where his fingers were still wreaking havoc.

"Fly solo, huh?" Kara muttered causing Harry to narrow his eyes. Without giving him any time to react, she launched them both into the air. Ignoring a yelp of, "That's not fair," she brought them to a hover, ten feet above the garden.

She looked down at the boy hanging from her arms, "Harry, you couldn't fly solo if you wanted to." She laughed as his expression changed into a scowl. Kara knew that while he hated being carried through the air, he loved flying and so they glided over the garden until Harry spoke up.

"Kara, we have to go get ready. Miss Diana will be here to pick us up soon. And you know what she said about playing like this."

"Yes, what did Miss Diana say?" A voice nearby startled them both, causing Kara to drop Harry into a bed of roses where he exclaimed a loud, 'umph'.

Standing below them was Diana, wearing a slight smile. Shaking her head she made her way to Harry and dusted him off from his impromptu landing.

"I think I said you shouldn't play like that because someone can get hurt." She pointed at Harry, "Just like this."

Kara nodded, chastised. She dropped down next to Harry.

"Sorry Harry."

"No worries. I guess you just have to work on your saving people thing, huh Supergirl?" He teased her.

"Hmm, Supergirl?" She liked the sound of that, but she would not let him have the last word. "Does that make you the damsel in distress?" She grinned, earning herself another scowl.

"Ok ok, that's enough out of you two. Go get cleaned up or we will miss the movie." Diana slung her arms around the two children, pulling them to her. "And make sure to change Harry. You have all that dirt on you." Seeing their nods she let them go with a push towards the house.

Harry turned to Kara, tagging her before he took off. Laughing, he yelled over his shoulder, "Catch me if you can, Supergirl."

_**Later that Night**_

Diana sat on the couch in a family room in Wayne Manor. A long morning followed by an even longer afternoon had left her and the children exhausted but after putting Kara and Harry to bed, Diana had been invited to share a glass of wine before she departed for the night. Never one to pass up spending time with Bruce, she accepted.

It must be said that the feelings Bruce and Diana shared were visible to everyone around them, including the would-be couple themselves. The looks, the touches and the way they could communicate with just raised eyebrows were more than enough proof for their friends that the two were headed towards each other. No one was quite sure what exactly was stopping them; even Bruce who had become the main obstacle to the relationship could not come up with a reasonable excuse as to why they hadn't already moved from being friends to something more.

Diana made no attempt to hide how she felt for the man the world knew as the 'Dark Knight'. The Princess of Themyscira had met a vast array of men after she left her island home. From her first adventure with a certain pilot to her fellow superheroes in the Justice League, and all the ordinary men in between, she was not the same naïve Amazon she once was. And none of them could measure up to Bruce Wayne. In him she found what the Amazons valued above all else: courage, discipline, intelligence, and a warrior spirit.

She often teased and flirted with him to see if she could get any reaction; a blush, a stammer, some sort of hesitation to trip up the cool and collected demeanor he always carried himself with. There were no overt signs except for him avoiding her eyes.

Bruce was not oblivious to the increasing tension; he was aware of the attraction between him and the Amazonian princess. The hyper-awareness to her presence or his eyes seeking her out whenever he entered a room were signs that he had felt before. No, he was all too aware. But he could not bring himself to do anything about it. The hesitation he felt stemmed from the experiences in his life that had proven to him that everyone left you sooner or later.

Bruce had had romantic entanglements before. The first among them was the almost relationship with his magic practicing childhood friend, which they thankfully ended before it ruined their friendship.

And then there was Selina Kyle. There were many words that could describe his relationship with the woman that was more widely known as Catwoman. Complicated. Passionate. Destructive. Their time together was more a curse than a blessing. Any relationship where one person was actively hunting the other as a fugitive was destined to fail, no matter how hard or how many times they tried. He had not seen Selina in many years. Something he was very grateful for.

And the most dangerous of his romantic past was Talia al Ghul. The daughter of a centuries old warlord, they had shared an almost tragic romance when Talia chose her father and the cause she was raised in over her love for Bruce. He had been asked to assume control of Ra's al Chul's group many times and every time he had declined which usually caused bad feelings to be shared. He knew deep down that if Talia had chosen to stay with him instead of returning to her father they would have been together now. She was his almost.

And then there was Diana, Princess of Themyscira. In her he had the friendly attachment he had always enjoyed with Zatanna, the playfulness that made Selina so desirable, and a woman skilled and talented enough not to be a liability when it to came to his enemies, the qualities that had made Talia such a great match for him. Diana also provided light, the one thing that no other woman had been able to give him; something he thought he would have to live without once his parents died. The goodness that Selina and Talia could not give because they were too dedicated to their own causes; she provided with ease.

His reasons for hesitating were becoming feebler every time he thought of them.

He broke the comfortable silence that they had slipped into. "So how were the kids today? I hope they weren't too much trouble." He gave her a grin that made her smile back despite her fatigue. _'Yes, Alfred was right. Natural charm,' _Diana thought to herself.

"No, they were great. We did a lot so we're all tired. I can't begin to explain how very glad I am that Harry doesn't have any powers. The trouble those two can get into is worrisome now, I can just imagine what it would be like if he did." Diana shuddered dramatically, causing him to laugh. She reached out to place a hand on his arm. "You are doing a great job with him, Bruce. He's not the same boy he was when he first came into our lives."

Bruce smiled at her in gratitude. "It took all of us to get him where he is today. You, Diana, have helped more than you could ever know. He's lucky to have someone like you in his life, and I think he knows that." And they lapsed into silence, both feeling the pull that was always present whenever they were alone.

Diana smiled as she remembered the day she spent with the kids.

"I asked Harry what he might want for his birthday, Bruce." She paused.

He waited for her to continue and when she didn't, asked, "Well, what did he say?"

_Flashback_

_Diana and Harry were waiting in the lobby of the Cineplex while Kara joined the line for food. Diana spent a lot of her time at the manor, and once a month she took the kids out; this allowed them to experience the world beyond the walls of Wayne Estate, or in Kara's case, the isolation associated with her powers._

_It was nearing the end of July and they were all getting ready for Harry's birthday._

"_So Harry, your birthday is coming up. Is there anything special that you want?" She held up her hand to stop him when he made a move to talk. Laughing she said, "And no, you can't ask for a cake; you are going to get one of those anyway." That brought him up short._

_She could see the struggle he was having with himself, deciding whether he would ask for something or not. Even with how far he had come, he was still affected by his past and it showed in his hesitation to ask for things and the inability to trust that people would keep their word._

_Harry looked at Diana and tried to determine if he had a chance of getting what he asked for._

"_Well," he started, hesitantly, "I was wondering. Since Bruce always introduces me as Harrison Wayne and he adopted me after we met, I thought well…maybe…I can call him…dad."_

_Not expecting anything like that, Diana's smile fell off her face. The silence began to make Harry uncomfortable and when tears came to her eyes and a small frown formed on her face, Harry took it to mean no and tried to backtrack._

"_I'm sorry, it was stupid. I didn't really mean it. I'm happy with what I have. _'I shouldn't have listened to Kara,' _Harry thought to himself._

_Diana knelt down and reached for the boy's hands. Taking a breath to calm herself she said, "I think that is a great idea, Harry. And I think that Bruce would love it, too." Harry looked up with hope shining in his eyes._

"_Really?"_

_Diana nodded and pulled him into a hug just as their moment was interrupted. Kara had bought a giant tub of popcorn that hid her top half from view. _

_In a voice that could be barely be heard from behind the snack she said, "I'm not sure this will be enough but it was the biggest they had."_

_End Flashback_

Diana looked at Bruce. She knew he and Harry had not spoken about labels when the adoption was finalized and neither had really thought much of it. But if Harry wanted it enough to ask for it then it was important to him and she would see it through to the end.

"Bruce? Did you hear me? What are you thinking?" Hearing his name brought his attention back to her.

He turned toward her and quietly said, "He's my son."

Diana beamed.

_**August 2 1988 Morning  
>Executive Office, Wayne Tower, Center of Gotham City<strong>_

Dressed in a fine suit, Bruce Wayne walked down the corridor of the executive offices with his son, the mysterious Harrison Wayne. These were the offices of the company that had been in his family since the 17th century. At first just a small business, it did not officially become a corporation until the 19th century under Alan Wayne; Wayne Enterprises would become a strong player in global markets.

Wayne Tower, a beacon of prosperity in Gotham had not changed much since the first time he visited. He could still remember the day that his father, Thomas Wayne, brought him to the main offices to see first-hand what his family had built.

_Flashback_

"_This Bruce is where the Executive Board meets. All of the important decisions are made in this room; the big things, like ideas for products to plans for expansions. The recent founding of factories in China was decided in this room." He took Bruce by the hand and walked him over to the CEO's chair, his chair._

"_And this Bruce, this is where you are going to sit when it is time for you to lead this company."_

_Bruce sat down at the head of the large table that was used by some of the wealthiest, most powerful men in Gotham City. At nine years of age, with his chin barely making it over to the edge of the table and his feet swinging high off the ground, he looked far from ready to lead them. But one day his would be the keenest mind to have ever led Wayne Enterprises._

"_Is this where you go every day?" Bruce looked towards his father._

"_No." Thomas Wayne laughed. "I only come here for the truly major decisions. I spend most of my time at the hospital. That's where I work. This is a place for more…business minded men." Kneeling by the chair, Thomas made sure he had Bruce's attention. "This is something that has been in the family since before my great-great-great-grandfather, and it would be a shame to lose it now. It is our job Bruce, to make sure we are able to pass it down to future Wayne's for as long as we can."_

"_Don't worry Dad." He seemed to be enjoying the view from his spot at the table. "I already have plans to make sure this company is the best."_

_His father laughed. "That's good. Now I'm sure you're bored, I know I've never been one to sit still in these meetings. I want you to meet an associate of mine. A very smart man, his name is Lucius Fox…"_

_End Flashback_

This company was a lasting monument to what his family had accomplished and here he was, sharing it with his son.

Dressed in an equally fine suit with his hair slicked back and keeping up with a confident stride, Harry looked nothing like he did when he first met the Justice League. With no need for glasses, his emerald eyes were often cooed about by all of the female employees at his father's company; he seemed to be a scaled down replica of Bruce. The entire world had heard about the mysterious Wayne heir from local talk shows and gossip magazines and this marked the first time that Harrison Wayne was so visibly out in public.

Bruce was still looking forward when he addressed his son. "This is our family's company, Harry. It has been in Wayne hands for over four centuries and for as long as I can remember it has been the leader in global markets."

Harry nodded, listening avidly to everything he heard. This was _his_ _family's_ history and he could not get enough of it. Walking the halls listening to his dad; _dad, _that word still made him smile every time he thought it.

"And it is our job to make sure that it is passed down to future generations."

"And just look at this dapper fellow," a deep voice interrupted their conversation.

"Lucius."

"Hi Mr. Fox." Harry waved. He had seen Lucius many times at Wayne Manor on official business and not-so-official business.

"Hello Mr. Wayne, young Mr. Wayne. I believe that we have some business to attend to?"

Bruce nodded. "Harry, we just need to go over some business proposals. Why don't you wait for me in my office, okay?"

"Sure dad, business proposals." He included a not so sly wink that caused Lucius to laugh. "I'll wait for you in there."

_**September 29 1988 Early Evening  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

"Master Bruce, Mr. Kent and Ms. Kent have arrived."

"Thank you Alfred. Kara I'm sure that you want to find Harry, he's in the-." Kara did not need to hear another word as she took off, heading for the door that led outside.

"Kara, wait!" Halfway through opening the door she stopped, but not before a loud splintering noise was heard. In her haste to find Harry, who she assumed was outside, she had pulled the heavy, solid wood door right off its hinges.

"Sorry Bruce."

Rubbing the bridge of his nose Bruce sighed, "Harry is in his room reading a book and please do me a favor, call out and get him to open the door." She nodded and raced up the stairs.

The two men stood in the foyer and watched the pre-teen loudly make her way to her friend. Clark sighed; he knew what it was like growing up with abilities that you had no control over. The fear of hurting others and the feeling of loneliness it caused made for a very tough childhood. His parents were the only reason that he made it through puberty with a good head on his shoulders.

Kara was very lucky that she had a friend that accepted her for who she and did not fear her powers. He knew that if she did not have Harry, it would be that much tougher reining her in when she threw fits. A pre-pubescent girl with an attitude was bad enough; a pre-pubescent girl with superhuman strength, speed and the power of flight made those tantrums all the more dangerous.

A shout of, "Harry, hurry up and open the door!" was heard from upstairs.

"I don't know how she does it." Clark turned to Bruce.

"What do you mean?"

Clark thought about all the close calls and missed parties in his youth. "When I was growing up, I couldn't be around others without having to worry about hurting them. You've seen the damage she can do when she isn't thinking. But that never happens when she is playing here. The amount of control she has when she is with Harry is amazing."

"Are you sure that Harry won't get hurt? I've seen what she can do when she isn't being careful and he is only eight years old."

"We had a long talk about how to treat people on Earth and she understands the need to think before she acts whenever she plays with him. She cares about Harry very much. I don't think she could stand the guilt if she was to hurt him." Bruce hoped he was right; he had been in too many hospitals with Harry already.

"So Kent, you're pawning off your kid on me?" Bruce slapped him on the shoulder with a laugh.

Clark had a look in his eye that would have looked familiar had it been on Kara's face. It usually preceded trouble of the most spectacular kind. "No, I'm just doing a friend a favor."

Bruce was confused for a split second then he noticed the silhouette leaning against the door to the kitchen and everything stopped. Standing there in a knee length black dress was what could literally be described as a gift from the gods, even if you did not know her real identity.

Bruce Wayne had remarkable willpower, stronger than any man in the world. That was the only reason he was not making a fool of himself in front of the gorgeous woman who had a look on her face that he could not identify. He could not hear what Clark had said to him when he patted him on the back but Bruce knew he had left the room; leaving him alone with the woman sauntering up to him.

"Clark is going to be doing me a favor." Diana spun around for him. "I am all dressed up to go to dinner and I have no one to keep me company." She looked at him coyly through her eye lashes. "What am I to do?"

Bruce looked her up and down, his stare bringing a flush to her cheeks. Clearing his throat he said, "I think I could spare Alfred for the night, he is an excellent dinner companion." This retort elicited a scowl and a jab from a super strong pointer finger.

"No, what's going to happen is you're going to go upstairs and you are going to pick out one of those tuxedos that make you look dashing, and then we are going to spend a quiet, romantic dinner at one of the finest restaurants Gotham City has to offer."

"Are we?"

"Yes, we are." She stepped closer to him, invading his personal space to the point where their breath mingled and her nose touched his.

"And if I don't want to?" He knew he had lost this race; the round went to her but he just could not give in without some token resistance.

All but leaning on him, she snaked her hand up his chest, grabbing onto the lapel of the sport coat he had worn that day, she said, "I never said you had a choice." She lifted him by the shoulders and flew off towards the stairs, leaving only the sound of his laughter in their wake.

Securing a reservation at the last minute was easy for someone who outright owned almost every upscale restaurant in Gotham City. They ended up having dinner at a small but exclusive Italian restaurant named Antonelli's. Diana chose it for its intimate atmosphere, something she prized in this, her concerted effort to court Bruce Wayne.

Conversation was easy to carry. They spoke about things they shared in common, their love of history, world politics and the major change in both their lives, Harry. That lasted them well into the dinner and they only stopped when Diana mentioned there was a band and small dance floor. And as luck would have it, a romantic slow song started to play.

"This is nice Bruce." Diana was a moderately tall woman, but even with her heels her eyes only came up to just past his lips.

He held her gently to himself as they swayed to the song. He could have stayed there the entire night, a soft song playing, a beautiful woman in his arms, and no need to worry about secrets or the danger she could possibly be in. He felt peaceful, a sensation he had never felt with a woman before. With all he had accomplished for the world in his life, this was the first uncomplicated thing he had ever done.

"So this was your master plan, then? To bring me here and woo me?" He pulled back to look her in the eyes. The smile on his face gave hint to the joke.

"Why would I need a plan Bruce? I know you feel the same way I do; it's in your eyes. I thought bringing you here would help get past whatever is making you hesitate…Is it working?"

He pulled her close and spoke softly into her ear, "My life is not something anyone should have to share. It is full of masks, deceit and shadows. There's no light Diana. And I don't know how to make it better. Why would anyone want to be a part of that?"

Cheek to cheek, he guided her through the next song as she let herself process those words. Feeling her pull back, he stopped leading her through the slow steps around the floor when she pressed her forehead to his. Feeling his steady breath on her face she spoke, "I know there are dark things in your life and I know that it can make the world seem bleak some days but what we have is good. You have friends, you have Alfred, you have Harry your son and I will always be there Bruce."

"No one has stuck around before."

"You have me and I'm not going anywhere."

"I think that only leaves me with one question." He pulled her close then dropped her into a dip,. "Miss Prince, would you do me the honor of accompanying me on an outing tomorrow night?"

With a radiant smile she responded, "Why Mr. Wayne, I would be delighted." Then she pulled him down to meet her. The patrons at Antonelli's received a full view of Bruce Wayne, wealthy socialite and notorious for protecting his privacy, passionately kissing a woman right there on the dance floor.

This would undoubtedly be front page news the next day.

_**September 29 1988 Just before Midnight  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

It was a harried and ragged looking Clark Kent that greeted the new couple upon their arrival back at Wayne Manor.

Harry and Kara had spent a lot of time being watched by other members of the Justice League when either Bruce or Clark were deployed on a mission. Hours had been spent in the care of the Flash, J'onn, and even John Stewart but their favorite time was when the 'Man of Steel' himself was watching them. Little children, like dogs and horses, could sense weakness and with instinct born of years of practice, they exploited all his weaknesses. And for all his strength, Superman was a pushover when babysitting.

Already late in the day when he and Kara arrived, Clark had expected a little play time before bed and then peace and quiet while he worked on articles for the Daily Planet. But as he now knew, children watch adults make plans and they laugh. Four games of hide and seek and two movies later, he finally had the kids tucked in and made it downstairs in time to welcome Bruce and Diana back home.

He took one look at their joined hands and smiled to himself.

Clark was the closest thing Bruce had to a best friend. He saw how the man worked tirelessly, sacrificing time in his life to work towards a self-imposed mission. Watching Bruce and Diana circling each other for quite some time, he could not believe how ridiculous their little dance was. He had never met two people more suited for each other than these two.

But now they were back and he could go get some rest before rushing to finish the article for tomorrow's deadline.

"It seems as though my sacrifice was worth it. The kids are sleeping and I'll pick Kara up on Sunday. Bruce, Diana, have a goodnight." He made his way towards the door only to stop and turn around. "Bruce, you might want to get the washing machine and dryer looked at. I don't know how or when but they got in there and it's not pretty," he said and then made his way out the door.

"I don't understand how two children can be the cause of so much trouble," Bruce whispered loud enough to make Diana laugh.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. "And you wouldn't have it any other way."

"No, but there are other things I would like to have, princess."

Unbeknownst to them, there were three sets of eyes watching from the top of the staircase.

Harry and Kara had snuck from their beds when they heard voices echoing up the stairs. They had watched Clark leave and stopped in shock when Diana began kissing Bruce. The shock turned to giggles, which then attracted Alfred to the scene.

There they stood, all three in a row, watching with wide eyes.

Then a mixture of, "Oh wow," "My word," and, "What is that?" was whispered as the kissing became more involved. Alfred had seen enough to be happy for the eldest Wayne and knew they were fast approaching very intimate adult time. Clamping his white-gloved hands over the innocent eyes, he guided them back to their rooms, ignoring the stereo version of, "C'mon Alfred," that it elicited.

"That's enough spying for one day and it is well past your bedtime." He shepherded them back to the main corridor and up to their rooms, which faced directly across from each other. "Now, I don't want to find you two awake when I come back to check on you."

His decree was met with a chorus of, "Yes, Alfred."

"Goodnight you two." He waited for them to finish up and get to bed.

"Goodnight Alfred." Harry and Kara spoke in unison before entering their rooms.

Walking back down the corridor, Alfred had a much livelier step. Things were beginning to look up at Wayne Manor.

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	5. Abracadabra

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

**Disclaimer: **I will find a way to have the rights to Harry Potter bequeathed to me but until then I don't own it. And DC is not mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Abracadabra<strong>

**September 30 1988 Morning**  
><strong>Family Room, Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>

After the obvious beginning to their relationship, photos appeared all over the next morning's paper. Overnight, everything from opinions about her dress, speculation about her being Harrison's mother to whispers of her scheming for the family wealth became newsworthy to all of the nation's bored housewives. Bruce Wayne's latest conquest was well on her way to becoming a celebrity in her own right.

The media had spent a tireless night digging up her records including her name, job history, and past relationships. Diana Prince became the world's most famous secretary in just one night. The news about her occupation only leant credence to the claims of her being a gold digger.

Bruce knew those hoping to make a name for themselves in journalism would place her life under very heavy scrutiny. And should someone find even one shred of misinformation it would lead to the exposure of her identity. Bruce worried any sort of leak could put them all in danger of retribution should it become public knowledge he was romantically involved with Wonder Woman.

After hearing his concerns, Diana confided in him that just because the past in question wasn't hers didn't mean that it wasn't real. When pressed she told him, "Diana Prince has lived a full life; she went to school, joined the military and had a family. It was a stroke of luck that I met her that day. So don't worry, there are hundreds of people that can attest to growing up with her, knowing her."

When he asked what would happen should the real Diana Prince step forward and claim to be Bruce's significant other, she laughed, "Mm, it would be pretty interesting to see what her husband has to say about that." Diana, using an innovative new technique she began employing after they started dating, silenced any other complaints. Bruce did not bring it up again, not to mean he let it drop just that he decided to keep an eye on it himself; he was Batman after all.

Now the only thing to do was explain the change in status to Harry. "Harry, could you come down here for a minute?" Bruce called up the stairs.

The Gotham Gazette and the Gotham Globe, as a rule, made sure to include any night time activities of the 'Prince of Gotham' in their newspaper. Gossip about Bruce Wayne was always a sure fire way to make money. He was not unaccustomed to being fodder for journalists but it did push forward the timeline for informing his son about his relationship with Diana. He hadn't been expecting to have this conversation so soon after the kiss.

Hearing Harry pad loudly towards the stairs he looked up to see his son. _Son_. He had used that word many times when explaining who Harry was or introducing Harrison Wayne to others in his social circle; but it was those few times he found himself explaining his decision to someone else that he felt the novelty of the situation. Leading the life of a loner vigilante, he didn't have much experience in making decisions for his personal life that affected others; these choices weren't just about him but also a person that had come to rely on him so completely for support, safety and love. The complete dependence and trust made him understand what it meant to be a father. And there was no doubt that he loved this little boy with everything he had.

"Yeah, Dad?" Harry stood in front of him, messy haired and pajama clad. He stood at the normal height and weight for an eight-year-old boy. He was thin but not unnaturally so. Bruce suspected that he'd always be slender. Bruce prided himself on the happiness he saw in Harry's eyes every day. A true testament to the type of home they shared.

"Come, sit down. I wanted to talk to you before I have to leave for work."

"Sure." He sat down opposite Bruce on the couch and began to swing his legs. When Bruce did not start to talk Harry prompted him, "So…what's up?"

Bruce looked at Harry and plunged forward, "You care about Diana, right?" At the boy's vigorous nod he continued, "Well what I have to tell you today has a lot to do with Diana."

It took all of Harry's self-control to keep from grinning. Last night was still fresh in his mind and he had barely slept from being so excited about what he had seen. He and Kara had waited until they were sure that Alfred had gone to bed and arranged a meeting in his bedroom. Sneaking around was easy if you did not make any discernible footsteps.

The older and wiser Kara had explained to the more naïve Harry what was happening downstairs. Thanks to her, Harry went into this talk well informed about the activities of men and women. Harry was not sure they were going to have children right away but he trusted his friend. As a girl, she told him that she automatically knew more about relationships than Harry did, and as such, only she could tell him what was going to happen.

"Harry, Diana and I have decided to take our relationship to the next level."

"Next level?"

He looked at his son and struggled for a way to explain so that a boy could understand. He knew he could not use Harry's own relationship with Kara. Harry's best friend was a girl and, to Harry, the difference between a boy and a girl was minimal. Their relationship at that age was purely platonic. Bruce had no idea how to make him understand the nuances of romantic love for a friend.

"Ok Harry, when a man and a woman like each other they try to…" he struggled to find a train of thought when he was cut off by Harry beginning to laugh, the hysterical laughter that only children can pull off. Confused, he watched his son flop backwards onto the couch while holding his stomach.

"Harry?"

"Dad … dad," Harry said between giggles. Harry sat up and slowly made his way to his father, still panting. "I know. We caught you last night." Bruce frowned slightly at being caught making out like a teenager.

"We?"

"Yeah. Me, Kara, and Alfred. We were at the top of the stairs when we saw you kiss."

'_So that is where those looks came from.' _Bruce thought back to the knowing smirk Alfred had on that morning. His musings were cut short when his son placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm happy with it Dad."

Lowering his voice to a comical level, Harry asked, "Just what are your intentions, mister?"

Chuckling to himself he rose off the couch and brought Harry into a hug. He turned the boy around and patted him on the backside, telling him, "Go wake up Kara for breakfast." He chose to ignore the troublemaking grin on Harry's face or how he slowly tiptoed back up the stairs. That was Kara's problem.

He watched as Harry went to the bathroom and came out with a cup full of water. He watched as his son slowly opened the guest room door. He waited and waited, and then a splash and "HARRY!"

Bruce laughed a full belly laugh on his way to the kitchen. _'Now to face Alfred.'_

_**November 14 1988 Noon**_  
><em><strong>Rogues Game, Gotham Stadium, Gotham City<strong>_

A couple weeks and a press release later the Wayne men were getting ready for a day filled with football. On the few times that they were able to spend quality time by themselves Harry and Bruce enjoyed normal father-son activities. This was a trip without the women that usually accompanied them; Diana who did not enjoy watching men running into each other or Kara, whose opinion of football was, "nancy boys acting tough."

Bruce did not follow the Gotham Rogues growing up and had only attended games when his father wanted to. Never one to sit around and spectate he preferred social interactions with others and when needed, the quiet solitude of the grounds. Not to say that Bruce was lazy as a child but Harry was obviously much more active than he was at that age. Bruce did not have a father that trained himself rigorously nor did he have a Kryptonian best friend growing up. An active lifestyle was a must for Harry.

The car ride was slow and uneventful with the normal traffic on game day. Even though he had visited other countries, visited the Watchtower in space, and spent time with world-famous superheroes, Harry was excited about seeing downtown Gotham. He had taken to pointing out interesting things he saw and the few sights he recognized from his rare trips to Wayne Tower.

Harrison Wayne was not a sheltered child; it had more to do with the life his father led. Being immensely rich and a superhero gave Bruce more options when it came to family day trips. Why spend an afternoon visiting Gotham City when you can watch the sun peak over the horizon from outer space?

Harry knew all about the city from the safety drills his father had run him through. He knew of the outskirts that were home to the wealthy, like themselves and the notorious Blackgate Penitentiary. He knew that neighborhoods like the Narrows were best stayed out of and that some place named Arkham was to be avoided at all costs. He knew all about Gotham City…in theory.

Batman knew more than anyone the dangers of the city and protected his son from them at all costs.

"It's gonna be great, right Dad?" Harry said, staring out the window.

"It will be fantastic. Now sit back and buckle up," he told the boy who was bouncing on his knees. "If you don't calm down Alfred is going to come back here and lecture me."

A cultured, "Indubitably, Master Bruce," floated from the driver's seat making Harry giggle.

"What's the game going to be like? Is it gonna be really loud? Are they any good?" Harry was all-ears now; eager for any information about their destination.

"Hmm, I don't remember. It's been a very long time since I've been to a game and I don't really follow the Rogues." He was surprised that this piece of information caused Harry to be confused.

"But I thought you were a big fan. Don't you know everything about them?"

"No, what would make you think that?" It was Bruce's turn to be confused and he looked at his son sideways.

"I heard you and Alfred talking about a Rogue's Gallery. Why would you have an entire gallery with Rogue's stuff and not be a fan?" This declaration and the following question caused Alfred to choke back a laugh and Bruce to roll his eyes.

"That's something that shouldn't be known." He spoke to his butler. Eyes darting to his son he said, "And you are getting a little too sneaky for your own good." Harry's chagrined expression suggested that his reprimand was a success.

"I'm not mad Harry. It's just…there are some conversations that aren't meant for everyone, ok?" Harry nodded. He went back to gazing out the window until something caught his eye.

"Dad? Are the Gotham Ghouls any good?" Harry turned back to his father.

"Gotham Ghouls? Harry, Gotham doesn't have a team named the Ghouls." Bruce explained as the car turned off the freeway and into the parking lot of the stadium.

"But the sign said, 'Match Today, Gotham Ghouls vs. Central City Sparks' and there were a lot of people lined up. You didn't see it? That big building that we just passed. They must have been really cold because they were all wearing really long coats."

_**November 14 1988 3 PM**_  
><em><strong>Rogues Game, Gotham Stadium, Gotham City<strong>_

They watched the Rogues win a hard fought game against the Star City Monarchs. Celebrations rang throughout the stadium as the spectators slowly began filing out.

The luxury box owned by Wayne Enterprises was located in the middle tier just along the 50-yard mark. It was a prime location to watch the game.

As the victory was toasted, the private elevator that serviced the area dinged and four men strode confidently through its doors. Bruce, who was waiting for Harry to return from the bathroom, saw them as soon as they entered the box. The way they fanned out, the bulges in their jackets, the way the man in the lead signaled his friends - it had all the hallmarks of a robbery.

The angry looking man walking in front of the group was Brendan Mitchell. Batman had been tracking his progress through the underworld of Gotham. He had started out as a low-level thief in the Narrows, stealing TVs and car stereos, but had since graduated to armed robbery and abduction. Loyal to no gang or organization, he was a menace to even the highest levels of the Maroni and Falcone families. A wild dog in an already wild town, his M.O. was unpredictable and almost always lethal.

The four men fanned out between the group watching the game and the exits, making sure to neutralize the guards and block any attempt to escape. Rounding up the staff and guests, they swept the restrooms for any stragglers and manhandled them towards the larger group but did not bother with the single-toilet children's bathroom in the far corner.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are not here to hurt anyone but that doesn't mean we won't if you try something stupid." He spoke in a low voice, eyes begging for an excuse for violence. "We came here for a specific purpose and we will leave when we have what we want. Now, please remove all jewelry and cash and deposit it in the bags being passed around. All of you are rich enough to have it replaced, so let's not cause problems." He watched dispassionately as his associates rounded up the bags. "Great, tie everyone up and cover their heads," he said to the two men closest to the doors. He eyed his target and said, "It's time for the grand prize."

Bruce removed his watch and his wallet when the bag was passed to him. The four men were not novices when it came to handling their weapons and cowing the hostages. They worked in pairs, backing each other up, not allowing their partners to be surprised or cut off from help. Four would have been a manageable number if he was alone but there were too many people in the box. Bullets were going to be fired; his concern was for those who would not be able to get out of the way. _'Please Harry, just stay in the bathroom.'_

The crowd parted and Mitchell made his way towards him. _'Ah, ransom too then.'_ That made sense in its own way. The Wayne box was filled with wealthy people but he was Bruce Wayne. The golden goose. He put on his 'rich, disinterested face' and waited for the words, "Come with us."

Kidnapping attempts were made on a monthly basis in Gotham City. The concentration of the extraordinarily wealthy and the desolate made for many desperate attempts to escape poverty; though many failed due to precautions taken by the rich and the professional security that they hired. That was not going to be a factor in this attempt; the personal forces hired by the high profile attendees were stationed at the entrance of the elevator, on the ground floor of the stadium. Which meant one of two things: they were either already disabled or accomplices to the crime. And the stadium security stationed in the box was not equipped to handle serious threats.

The next sentence made his blood run cold.

Mitchell smiled a dangerous grin and said, "Now where is your darling baby boy?" The singsong quality in his thick Belfast accent made the words seem even more sinister.

Bruce's hands curled into fists at his sides. He fought to keep himself from ripping that smile off of Mitchell's face. He had to stall, buy himself some time to figure out a way of getting Harry out of here.

"I'm right here. Makes more sense to take me, doesn't it? The head of the company? I could be worth millions of dollars if you play your cards right. There's no need to involve anyone else in this."

"Oh no Mr. Wayne. Can I call you Bruce? I mean I will be looking after your son for a little while, right? Bruce, if I take you I can make a few million, yes. But the trouble of keeping a grown man locked up without him trying to escape is already giving me a headache. Feeding him, moving him, making sure no one sees his ridiculously famous face, it's too much trouble. But if I take little Harrison with me than I have you by the balls, no? A company would pay millions to get their CEO back but they would be stupid and try to play games with me. They would try to find me and sneak in and rescue you. But I take little boy and the father would pay any number I ask him to pay, no?

"And little boy is easier to move, easier to keep compliant. And when I tell you that any sneaky business to find me will hurt him, the father would understand, right? Now I will ask again, where is darling baby boy?"

Bruce stepped in close, making the other three men train their guns on him, and spoke in a low whisper. "If you touch my son, there won't be a place in the world where you can hide. I want you to think very hard and imagine what a man like me can do when I want something bad enough."

This promise of pain only seemed to amuse the Irishman. With a nod, the largest of the group grabbed Bruce by the arms. "Let me make something very clear to you, Bruce." Mitchell wound up and delivered a shot to his stomach forcing him to hunch him over. "If I think that you are trying to cheat me out of my money I don't hurt you, I give you a warning. Harrison has all his fingers and toes, right?" Bruce tried to lunge at him. Another blow stopped him, this time to the face. "Keep that in mind when I take him. I will not play games"

The door of the children's bathroom opened, ending the conversation. _'Next time, stop at three chili dogs.'_ Harry rubbed his stomach, eyes closed in a grimace. The utter silence caused him to look around and stop dead in his tracks. He saw everyone on the floor with their hands tied and heads covered with bags. He made eye contact with his father who was being held down, his face covered in blood.

In that split second Bruce yelled, "Harry! Run to Alfred!" Without hesitation Harry took off like a shot to stairs that doubled as the fire exit. The alarms blared in the box and quickly spread through the stadium.

Mitchell looked at his men and screamed over the alarms, "What are you waiting for? You two get the kid. Make sure that you don't attract any unnecessary attention."

Harry ran down the stairs, desperately trying to get away. He heard the door bang open and footsteps racing behind him and he was terrified. His only thoughts were of getting to Alfred before the bad men caught him.

He made it to the ground floor just as the men closed the gap. Flinging the door open he came face to face with three private bodyguards Wayne Enterprises employed for its executives. Stopping short, he felt a hand grab him by his sweater.

"Just where do you think you're going kid? You're coming with us. Gonna make a nice payday off of you." He turned towards the guards. "This little guy here set off the fire alarm. We need to be on our way before the cops start showing up."

* * *

><p>The stadium had been in the process of emptying when the fire alarm sounded, so not many people were affected except the last few stragglers who made for the exits in a quicker fashion. But it drew the attention of one very concerned butler.<p>

When his two charges did not leave immediately once the game was over, Alfred rationalized to himself that Master Harry wanted to stay to the end and take in the entire experience. After the people exiting the stadium had trickled down and they were nowhere to be seen he grew a little worried. Once the fire alarm started ringing he made his way towards the elevator that led to their luxury box. He turned the corner in time to see Harry dash out of the emergency staircase and into a group of bodyguards. Two men carrying submachine guns pushed the door open and grabbed Harry roughly by the collar of his sweater. That was when Harry was once again the cause of some magnificent trouble.

"Alfred!" Harry caught sight of his butler down the hall. The thoughts running through his head were of ways to get by the blockade they set up between him and Alfred, one of the few people in the world that he equated with safety. He remembered the little tricks his father had taught him when confronted by danger.

'_Harry, at your age, even with training you would not be able to fight a grown man. No matter how good the technique of your punches and kicks are you have no power to put behind them. But that doesn't mean you're defenseless. Stomping on toes could buy you time or, if they have a hold of you, allow you to break free.'_

Harry stomped as hard as he could on the foot of the man holding him. He made sure to dig his heel until he heard cursing and felt the grip slacken on his collar. He wrenched free and turned his attention to the man directly between him and Alfred.

'_The force you can generate with your fist is nothing to what you can do if you put your body behind it. The ankle and the knee are vulnerable spots. That's where you target.'_

The man had his hands outstretched, ready to catch the fleeing boy. Using a move he learned from watching the game, he ducked his shoulder and plowed into the man's knee. Hearing the crack and tear followed by an agonizing scream, Harry picked himself up and ran towards Alfred. Tears flowing down his face and hugging his stinging shoulder to his body, he wrapped his arms around the Englishman's knees.

"Master Harry, we need to leave." Alfred spoke softly, hurrying the boy into the alcove just behind them; the corridor was too long to have a chance of outrunning their pursuers. A shout of, "That's the one we came for. Get him," was heard.

"But Alfred they have Dad."

Alfred double-checked the corridor. There was no place to hold out until help arrived. He had to buy the distraught child time to get away.

The men had blocked the hallway, leaving only the door behind them to leave through.

"Your father is more than capable of looking out for himself. I am sure he will be on his way shortly. Our main concern now is getting you to safety. I want you to run until you find a policeman. Do not stop. I will come find you when I can. Do you understand me?" Harry was trembling in his arms, eyes darting side to side. The adrenaline had kicked in and he was using his fight or flight instinct. He wanted to run. Alfred shook him lightly. "Understand?"

"Find someone to help. Stay there until you come," he repeated back.

"Exactly. Now go." He watched Harry race to the door and out of sight. Relieved, he turned his attention back to the group of men coming for his charge.

* * *

><p>Back in the luxury box, Bruce watched his son bolt down the stairs followed closely by two of the men carrying automatic weapons. With everyone lying blinded on the floor, it left just himself, Mitchell, and the hulking mountain of muscle that was still holding his hands behind his back.<p>

Seconds after the two gunmen ran down the stairs Mitchell delivered another blow to Bruce's head. He leant in close and said, "I was going to do this carefully and you were going to get your son back if you paid. But now, I think I should rough him up and give you pieces. Sound good?" He took a step back, taking out a handkerchief to clean the blood off his hands.

He never expected the man in front of him to smile.

"I think," Bruce spat blood onto the floor, "I'm going to enjoy what happens next."

In a routine honed through years of training and practice Bruce dug his heel into the foot of the man holding him. It was not hard enough to hurt him but just enough to break his grip and allow Bruce to rip his arms free. He followed up by tossing an elbow at his stomach, and then let another fly into his nose as the giant reflexively hunched forward, sending the man crashing to the floor.

Mitchell was caught unprepared for the sudden attack. He reached for his gun, intending to regain control.

Bruce stepped forward. Left hand coming up to keep the gun pointed away while his right hand found purchase behind Mitchell's head. Using the momentum of his body he swung his upper body forward, smashing his forehead into Mitchell's face. Pulling back, he delivered another head butt to the same spot. The second strike broke skin, dazing Mitchell while Bruce tossed the gun along the far wall. Mitchell staggered back, his mind on stopping the flow of blood.

Bruce's attention was forced back to the larger man when he felt a punch to his lower back. He danced out of the way of any further blows and squared up, ready to fight.

They traded jabs, elbows and knees. Neither gaining an advantage, neither being able to get past the other's guard. _'Must be a mercenary. I wonder where Mitchell found him.'_ The detached sense of calm was returning. He had felt himself surrender to rage when he heard what Mitchell intended to do to Harry if he caught him. He needed to end this and find his son.

Landing a quick combination, he ended the round by sweeping the mercenary off his feet just in time to see Mitchell crawling towards his gun. Two quick strides forward and he stomped on the right hand just about to close around the gun. Twisting his heel, Bruce was not satisfied until he heard the telltale cracks of fingers breaking. With the threat of being shot in the back neutralized, he turned again to see his sparring partner closing the distance.

He braced himself for the rush and was slammed into the wall. Feet off the ground and arms squeezing around his torso he knew he had to gain some sort of leverage. He saw Mitchell grab the discarded gun in his off hand as he clambered to his feet. Bloody and cradling his arm, he made his way towards the emergency door and down the stairs.

'_Wasting too much time here.'_

Using his free arms Bruce smacked his open palms over his opponent's ears, dazing the mercenary, allowing him to end the bear hug and return to his feet. Taking a step forward and ducking a wild haymaker, he ended up right behind his opponent allowing him to wrench an arm back, shattering the man's elbow. Ignoring the screams, Bruce kicked the back of the man's knee, causing him to fall. With a move that would fracture the mercenary's skull he grabbed the falling head and he drove it straight into the floor.

He was out the door and down the stairs before one of his aides bravely spoke up, "Mr. Wayne, are you okay?"

* * *

><p>To all of Gotham, Alfred Pennyworth was a beacon of propriety. Cultured, well mannered and polite, most people didn't understand why Bruce Wayne ventured through the city with just the butler as an escort. Most people didn't realize that Alfred Pennyworth had lived a full life before his first visit to America.<p>

He was going to teach these men chasing his young charge that upsetting a former SAS officer was a terrible idea.

Alfred positioned himself against the wall and waited as the first two rounded the corner, guns held at the ready. The bodyguards-turned-criminals were well trained and immediately fanned out, searching for their target and the older man he ran to. Mitchell's minions brought up the rear; as amateurs, they walked up with guns at their sides.

Making sure he couldn't bring up his gun, Alfred smashed the heel of his palm into the nose of the man bringing up the rear. The smash of the cartilage and the knee jerk reaction of watery eyes made the target of the butler's attack drop his gun. It was easy for Alfred to push him into his companion, sending them both down in a tumble.

Turning his attention to the bodyguards, he pulled the closest one to him by the barrel of the gun. The other bodyguard, unable to get a clean shot, rushed to join the fray. One large difference between Alfred Pennyworth and Bruce Wayne was while Bruce used violence as a means to an end, he refrained from using guns. He did this out of respect for his parents who were gunned down in an alley in front of his eyes. Alfred was a soldier and had no such restriction.

With the barrel of the gun still in his hand, he turned it towards the guard's open palm with an old trick that gave him control of the hefty Glock. He threw his flat hand forward, striking the throat and closing the man's windpipe. Without a second thought he turned and unloaded two shots at the man lining up his shot now that the view was clear. With one bullet straight into the bodyguard's chest and the other through his throat, Alfred made sure he would never come after his young ward again.

Taking out the clip and ejecting the bullet from the chamber, he threw the gun across the floor. He took the time to dust his hands off when someone pinned his arms to his sides. The thug turned both their bodies and Alfred watched as the man whose nose he busted pulled out a hunting knife.

'_Foolish, Alfred,' _he scolded himself.

Then Mitchell stumbled upon the fight in front of the tunnel entrance. Seeing the last two of the bodyguards on the floor, he decided this debacle needed to end now. He shouted, "Where'd the boy go?"

"Down there, boss." The man with the knife pointed to the door that led to the utility tunnel, sending Mitchell after Harry.

The momentary distraction allowed Alfred to hook one leg around his captor's and throw his weight back.

* * *

><p>Four broken fingers. Bleeding from his right eye. This was supposed to be an easy job.<p>

Pay off the help. Round everyone up before an alarm could be raised. In and out with the kid and the loot. _'This was supposed to be an easy fucking job.'_

Holding his broken hand protectively against his body, he pushed open the door at the bottom of the staircase. He rolled his eyes when he stepped over the man holding his leg in the middle of the corridor.

He turned the corner and spotted the last two bodyguards on the floor. One grabbing his throat and the other passed out in a puddle of blood. He just needed the boy. _'Get the boy and disappear.'_ These were his last thoughts as he headed through the door down into the tunnels.

* * *

><p>Making it down the stairs quickly, Bruce kicked the door open and scanned quickly. His anxiety didn't ease when he realized the hall was filled with the moans of a man holding a knee bent the wrong way and a scuffle from an alcove further down the corridor.<p>

Taking the corner at a run he watched as Alfred fell backwards on top of one of Mitchell's men. The other was advancing on the fallen pair with a large knife.

Bruce leapt into action. Catching the knife hand, he used one arm to grab the man's neck in a chokehold and with his other hand forced the edge of the blade down. Bruce made sure to break the fragile bone in the wrist, forcing him to drop the knife. Hearing the clink of metal on stone he applied more pressure to the choke, not stopping until he felt the man struggle before falling limp. Bruce unceremoniously dropped him, feeling perverse satisfaction when his head bounced loudly off of the floor.

Alfred and the thug broke apart, the two men scrambled to their feet. Ducking low under a badly thrown left hook, Alfred picked up the fallen knife. Quicker than the other man could move, he plunged the blade into his left foot. With it firmly planted he drove a vicious uppercut into his jaw, silencing the screams and laying the man out.

Breathing heavily Alfred stood up straight and spoke firmly, "Master Bruce, go get Harry. I will make sure none of these can continue."

Bruce nodded, eyes locked on the door.

"Be careful, the last gentleman still has a gun."

_**November 14 1988 Just After 3 PM  
>Utility Tunnels, Underneath Rogue Stadium, Gotham City<strong>_

Harry ran as far and as fast as his legs could carry him.

It seemed to be one long hallway. Most of the doors were locked and those that were not locked were just closets. He needed somewhere to go. He needed to find help. Finally, he came upon a door with a broken exit sign above it.

He tugged and tugged on the last door, tears of fear and frustration streaming down his face. Not noticing the footsteps creeping up behind him he gasped when a hand went around his throat, lifting him off his feet.

Harry felt terror grip him when he looked up, into the face of the man he saw beating his father.

Not easing his grip on Harry's throat, Mitchell kicked the door open and flung the boy into the room. Turning, he found a cinder block to wedge the door shut.

Grinning madly, he looked like the cat that caught the canary.

"I knew I'd get you boy. No one is gonna help you now. Not your father and not that fancy butler my boys are roughing up." Mitchell's smile grew wider when the boy shrank back.

"I will get my money."

"No, my dad will stop you. He'll come get me."

"Your father will have a hard time getting through that door. And by the time he does we'll be long gone." Finished catching his breath, he crossed the room to get the boy and be done with this mess.

"Now come here."

Harry watched terrified as the man with the gun came closer and closer. As he came close enough to reach out and grab him, Harry covered his head with his arm and screamed, "Stay away from me!"

Mitchell took half a step before he felt a shock run down his arm. Stumbling back he watched what looked to be a blue light surround the Wayne heir. It seemed to flicker, like it was not sure if it was transparent or opaque. Mitchell felt a fear that had nothing to do with broken bones or being arrested when the sound of crackling energy filled the air.

It formed a bubble around Harry. Raising his gun, Mitchell aimed for a spot above the boy but through the light, hoping to puncture it without hurting his prize.

He fired.

Ducking instinctively when the ding of the bullet sounded off the blue light, he was lucky to escape with a grazed arm.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, BOY?" Those words had an effect that neither Mitchell nor Harry could understand.

Harry tossed a hand out in a warding gesture and before he could blink Mitchell was flying across the room, landing on his already injured hand.

Harry sat on the floor, wide eyed.

Groaning harshly, Mitchell sat up, his fingers throbbing. He glared across the room. He did not know how he ended up on the floor but he knew it was the boy's fault.

Banging on the door interrupted them.

"Harry! Harry!"

"DAD!" Bruce rammed the steel door again, his son's calls spurring him on.

Brendan Mitchell was at the end of his rope. The only thing separating him from a giant payday was this little kid. _'This is ending now if I have to smack this kid with my gun.'_ "We are leaving kid. Now!" Mitchell ran at Harry, intent on knocking him out and dragging him through the door on the opposite side of the room when Harry threw both hands out.

"No!" This time Mitchell flew through the air faster and farther than before. Corkscrewing, his head connected with a breaker box on the far wall. He landed on the floor with a crunch when he tried to break his fall with the hand broken minutes earlier. He lay there, still.

The banging grew more frenzied, Bruce screaming his name between every ram of the door.

Harry sat on the floor, shocked. He knew he had caused Mitchell to fly across the room.

The latch on the door gave way and Bruce scrambled into the room. His eyes locked onto the boy huddled against the wall. Racing across the room he scooped Harry up and hugged him as hard as he could, matching the intensity of the small arms around his neck.

Dropping against the wall as the adrenaline left him, he spied Mitchell lying on the floor. The large welt forming on his head was enough to let Bruce know he was not getting up.

Bruce wanted to hurt the man that terrorized his family. Do things that would make sure Mitchell served as an example to anyone that came after his family again. But all his thoughts were of getting his shivering son back home.

_**November 22 1988 Just After Midnight  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

A man and a woman sat quietly on the couch. Bruce was reclining back against cushions, staring up at the ceiling while Diana sat beside him with her head on his shoulder, her feet tucked underneath her body. It had been a long day before they were able to put the children to bed.

The trip to the football game had been a trying ordeal for the entire Wayne family. The kidnapping attempt would be seared in their minds for years, the fear and trauma leaving effects that Bruce hoped would fade.

Once the police had concluded their questions they were sent home. Alfred had placed a call to the Watchtower, informing Diana and Clark of their brush with danger. He hoped that they would be able to provide companionship and comfort to Bruce and Harry.

Less than an hour after the call Diana had been sitting in Harry's room, whispering softly to him, trying to lull him to sleep. Kara arrived with Clark shortly after being told, insisting she stay there that night. She held Harry's hand as they sat on the bed.

The next few days were a trial. Everyday Harry seemed to cling to Bruce. Not letting him out of his sight and making sure to be in the same room as his father. It was difficult for Kara to stay inside for so long but she seemed to understand that Harry did not want to be away from the man that rescued him.

The nights were the worst. The first time Harry had a nightmare and cried out in his sleep the entire house rushed into his room. It was a challenge getting Harry back to sleep; so Diana lay down in bed with him, making sure he would get some rest while Kara looked on, distressed.

Bruce stood at the door, watching the woman he loved comfort his son. His fists were clenched at his sides. _'I should have been able to protect him from this.'_

"It will get better Master Bruce. He has a family that loves him, that will take care of him. He is not alone in this." Bruce prayed he was right.

It was a week later and here they sat. Diana broke the comfortable silence, "Harry seems to be getting a little better." The only response she received was a hum, as if he was saying, "Really?"

She nodded and looked up, "He's not jumping at any sound and he doesn't seem to be scanning the room for threats anymore. Has he told you what happened in that room?"

This got a response, "No. He won't talk about it; he was terrified when I asked him. I don't want to put him through it again." The unexplained struggle inside the locked room caused Bruce's obsession with detective work to clash with his concern over his son's state of mind. It was a struggle that his parental instincts won.

"I understand. It's probably for the better. He walked away with just some bruises on his side, right?"

"Yes, I assume it was from Mitchell."

A loud cry was heard from the upstairs corridor making the couple head for the stairs.

They arrived quickly but too late to be the first ones to comfort Harry. When they made it to the door they watched as Kara climbed into his bed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"He was coming to get me Kara!" The words broken by his sobs, "He was there and he was coming to get me."

"Don't worry Harry. I'm here. I'm not letting anyone take you away. I'm always gonna be here." Kara held her best friend, trying valiantly to hold back tears.

The boy's father and the closest thing he had to a mother watched in heartbroken silence as the two young friends drew comfort from each other.

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	6. You're Dead

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I think it's safe to say I know more about the Harry Potter world than JK Rowling but, alas, the Universe has deemed it hers by right of her thinking it up.

A/N: The previous chapters have been reposted after being edited. Most are cosmetic (spelling, grammar etc). The big change includes Alfred's backstory. It wasn't changed just placed somewhere here. _**You should all reread the previous chapters so you don't become confused.**_

**Chapter 5: You're Dead!**

_**December 24 1988 Just Before Midnight  
>Cemetery, Godric's Hollow, England<strong>_

Dumbledore stood silently in front of the graves of his family, enjoying the snowfall and the quiet December night.

He did this every year, fulfilling a promise he made long ago to spend the holidays with his family. His mother's voice still echoed in his mind, _'Christmas is a time for family, Albus'_. It was a time to reconnect or, in Dumbledore's case, ask for forgiveness.

Albus knew today would be the only time he could spend alone, giving his love. For tomorrow would see many wizarding families come to pay their respects to the more famous occupants of the cemetery.

The only sounds that could be heard were the wind blowing through the grounds and the light crunch of footsteps in the snow. He had been expecting her for some time now. Like Albus, she was visiting her lost family.

Minerva wrapped herself tightly in her cloak. The bitter chill that she felt was the complete opposite to the delightful frost everyone else was experiencing. It seemed fitting that her body only mirrored what her heart was feeling.

He watched as she stopped in front of the memorial that dominated of the cemetery, a large statue that showed a detailed image of the young couple holding their baby. The likeness was incredible. It captured the stubbornness of James' hair, the warm smile that lit up Lily's face, and the small arms that reached towards his parents.

He watched as Minerva spoke softly, her words carrying on the wind. Choked whispers of love and desperate apologies. Albus could feel the intimacy of the moment but he could not look away. He had been there, exactly where Minerva was now. Where the pain was so fresh that a passerby could remind you of what you had lost and break your heart all over again.

There the wizard stood, for what seemed like hours, watching his friend spend Christmas Eve with her family.

Minerva departed from the cemetery long after the bells rang, signaling the start of Christmas day. He watched her whisper a quiet goodbye and press a kiss to her fingers, placing it on the head of the baby. Albus took his leave just as quietly, stooping low to lay flowers in front of the family headstone where his parents and sister rested.

Albus knew he needed to get to bed. He wasn't as young as he used to be and the memorial promised to make it a long day.

Christmas morning was picture perfect. The freshly fallen snow was light and powdery and the sky was so clear, it seemed to make the whole world glow.

It was the fourth annual Christmas memorial. Today families from all over the United Kingdom would come and pay their respects to Harry Potter. Seating was provided on pews in the magically expanded grounds. Facing the crowd was a gaggle of officials including the Minister of Magic, several departmental heads, wealthy benefactors, and Dumbledore as the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.

Albus Dumbledore sat between Minister of Magic Millicent Bagnold and Amelia Bones, the head of Magical Law Enforcement. Polite conversation was murmured throughout the crowd until the procession began. The eleven o'clock start time was drawing near.

Dumbledore scanned the crowd. While he was acquainted with almost everyone here his eyes came to rest on those few he knew quite well.

Amos Diggory and his wife. Their son Cedric, who had just begun his first year at Hogwarts, accompanied them.

The Weasleys arrived in full force. Molly and Arthur had their hands full herding their children and filing them into the row. He watched as the two youngest, Ronald and Ginevra, argued until it seemed she had enough and kicked her brother in the shins. Amidst the scolding their parents were giving them, they never realized how lucky they were to have a family, to have someone love you, to be able to have Christmas dinner in a warm home. Things Harry was never going to have, the Potters were never going to have.

Minister Bagnold stepped to the podium, clearing her throat; she projected her magically enhanced voice so all who came could hear.

"Thank you, for sacrificing your Christmas morning to join us in remembering the life of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Before we begin, I would like to have everyone join in for a moment of silence." The congregated wizards bowed their heads, some more readily than others.

The crowd was regaled with stories of the Potters' heroic deeds. Rising against the oppression of the most terrifying Dark Lord in centuries. The friends they lost and the tough battles they fought in. When the minister began speaking about the night the Harry Potter beat the Dark Lord there was a barely noticeable tightening of the eyes for many of the wizards.

Minister Bagnold ended the ceremony just before noon. "Thank you for coming out today. The Ministry of Magic would like to wish all of you a Happy Holidays," she said to the crowd.

Dismissed, the crowd slowly filed out to the designated portkey and apparition areas, exchanging well wishes and seasonal greetings.

By the podium, Bagnold turned to her compatriots, "Thank you all for coming. And thank you Lucius for donating the funds to subsidize the ceremony."

Lucius Malfoy bowed towards the minister with a humble smile. "Of course Minister, it was my pleasure. The community needs this and I am glad I can be of service," he spoke smoothly. "It's just a shame that we would have to be here today."

Dumbledore pursed his lips, angered by the man's audacity.

"I agree Lucius. It is terrible that the monstrous things Lord Voldemort did have caused good people to suffer so," Dumbledore spoke in a light tone, causing everyone to nod their head.

"I believe we're done for the day. Thank you, everyone, for coming. Have a happy holidays," the minister spoke to the officials that were assembled behind her.

Slowly, the group dispersed. It was Christmas Day and Amelia Bones had a niece to care for back at her home. The group headed home, eager to be with their families, leaving only Dumbledore and Malfoy behind.

The look on the Ministry's wealthiest benefactor's face gave a clue as to where the conversation was going. After Harry's death, Dumbledore had become the topic of jokes and gossip all over the ministry. "That was a stirring sentiment, Dumbledore." Malfoy turned to the elder wizard.

"It is just what I feel, Lucius. I am not sure that you can say the same," Dumbledore said. "Why the charade? Those that loved the Potters have gone through enough. They do not need to see you parading their loss in front of them every year."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I think that Halloween all those years ago was a tragic day," Lucius said, causing Dumbledore to scoff. "It isn't even my fault we are here today, is it Headmaster? If I had been successful when the minister had rightfully acquitted me maybe young Harry would be here with us today. Safe. Alive." He made sure to stretch the last word.

"You see Dumbledore, unlike some, I know how to care for the future of the wizarding world. Which begs the question; why do you think you should be up here? Haven't you caused enough pain for the Potters' friends?" He enjoyed watching the elder man become riled up. Lowering his voice to just a whisper, he said, "Did you come to enjoy a job well-done?"

Dumbledore's face became hard. "Happy Christmas," he said tightly, as he walked away from the smiling Lucius Malfoy.

_**January 9 1989 Noon  
>Gotham Federal Courthouse<strong>_

Through dozens of statements, interviews, and court dates, Brendan Mitchell's pre-trial hearing was approaching fast. Felony counts of attempted kidnapping, criminal possession of a weapon, conspiracy to murder, assault and battery, and grand larceny would have seen him go to prison for the rest of his life. That was until one of Bruce's contacts in the District Attorney's office told him some very disturbing news.

That was why Bruce Wayne was walking down the corridor, accompanied only by his faithful butler, to a scheduled meeting with the recently re-elected DA Andrew Spiner.

Alfred watched as Bruce knocked on the door, a furious expression on his face. The man's secretary opened the door.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Spiner is busy preparing for a meeting," she said, already closing the door.

"That's fine. I'm sure it can wait," Bruce dismissed, brushing past her into the waiting area.

"Sir! Sir, he can't be bothered right now," she called, helpless to stop him.

Not bothering to knock Bruce pushed the door open, revealing Andrew Spiner.

"Ah Bruce, to what do I owe this pleasure," Spiner said.

"A plea? Tell me Spiner, where in the hell do you get off offering Brendan Mitchell a plea deal?" Bruce demanded. He received the news late last night, during an outing with Diana.

"The case has taken some interesting turns. The DA's office has decided that a plea deal is in the best interests of both parties. We had enough evidence to force him to take time," Spiner responded. Then he rose from his seat, ready to escort Bruce from his office.

"Besides, we haven't overlooked the role your butler played in the events of that afternoon," Spiner said, without an ounce of subtlety.

Bruce froze. Playing the role of the flighty billionaire had opened doors, giving him the ability to sneak about unnoticed. However, the reduced sentence and Spiner's threat against Alfred were enough to make Bruce abandon the façade.

He grabbed Spiner by the elbow and pulled him short of the door.

"Excuse me?" Bruce said.

Spiner, becoming annoyed, shook Bruce's hand off his arm. "Look Mr. Wayne, this is a matter for the District Attorney. I can appreciate the hard times your family has gone through but the decision rests with me," he said turning back to sit at his desk.

Bruce stood at the door, incensed. "You can appreciate it," Bruce said, emphasizing each word. He walked over and placed both hands on Spiner's desk. "Spiner, I don't care what Mitchell is offering you. I don't care what favors or amount of money you think you'll gain. Do your job or I'll find some else that will." His threat clear, he began to exit the office.

"Wayne, I don't know who you think you are but you have no call coming in here thinking you can tell me what to do. I was elected by the people of Gotham City and I will do this job the way I see fit," Spiner said.

"That man followed my family to that game with the intention of taking my son and holding him for ransom. He attacked me and tried to kill one of my employees. Alfred Pennyworth protected my son at the risk of his own life and if you try to bring him up on charges I will hire the best lawyers in the country to defend him. When they're done, not a jury in the country, let alone Gotham, will convict him. Juries don't convict heroes Spiner, especially not ones who protect little boys from vicious thugs.

"Then I will turn my attention to you. I will let everyone know about the two mistresses you keep in Bludhaven, the vacation home in Coast City that you should not be able to afford, or how your main opponent in the last election decided to drop from the race when he was leading by twenty points in the polls."

Spiner paled.

"Put him away Spiner, because I can tell you that what you'll lose if you don't is a lot more than what you'll gain if you let him plead." Bruce walked out the office coming face to face with Brendan Mitchell being escorted by two prison guards.

"Well, look at what we have here. How are you, Bruce? How's that son of yours?" Mitchell asked.

Mitchell's attorney stepped between the two. "If you'll excuse us, Mr. Wayne. We have a meeting with Mr. Spiner right now," he said.

Mitchell strode confidently into the office. _'Five years. I can do five years in my sleep. I might even get paroled early.'_ They had worked out the deal beforehand. Gun possession and criminal mischief. It was amazing what you could get away with in this town.

The upset look on Spiner's face was worrisome for Mitchell. And his first sentence made his face red with anger.

"The deal's off," the DA said, raising a hand to stop any argument from Mitchell's lawyer. "We believe that it is in the city's best interest to bring this to trial. We have more than enough to put you away for the rest of your life. And there is nothing you can offer us to change our mind." He stopped and waited for the explosion.

"We had a deal, counselor. This meeting was just to sign paperwork!" the lawyer shouted.

"Maybe your client should've thought of that before he hatched his daring plan to kidnap the son of the wealthiest man in Gotham. Now please leave, I need to prepare for the hearing," he said, not looking up from the witness statements he was reviewing.

_**February 28 1989 10 AM  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

On a lazy Sunday morning, Bruce Wayne sat at his desk, going through stacks of reports from Lucius Fox on the status of several prototypes that Wayne Enterprises Research Division was working on. It was a long and boring task, one he usually suffered through alone, but today he had company.

Harry had regained some of his normal enthusiasm in the months following the kidnapping attempt but he still remained reserved and cautious. Bruce was happy when he noted that Harry had begun laughing more and causing trouble with Kara again but something felt off. It didn't take long for Bruce to realize that Harry made sure to always be accompanied by an adult.

He knew he needed to make some headway into the feeling of safety that Harry lacked. He thought back to the advice J'onn gave him after visiting with Harry. _'He's still scared. The only way for him to get over the fear is to feel safe even when he's not with you, Bruce. That confidence can come from being able to protect himself.'_

Bruce knew that Harry wouldn't be able to defend himself against grown men. The telepath had smiled when he felt the path of his thoughts. _'No, I do not believe he can either, but he does not need to know that. The reward would be the confidence he would gain. The task of protecting him is left to his loved ones. Those who are capable of protecting him.'_

Bruce knew that what J'onn said was true but he didn't want to train Harry to fight like Batman. He didn't want his son to live that life. The strained relationship he had with Dick was reason enough. It was time, he decided, to take him to Alfred.

"Harry," his son raised his head, "I want you to come with me."

Obediently following behind his father, Harry watched as they took the route to Bruce's private training room. Once outside the door Bruce turned and spoke deliberately, "This room is off limits unless you are told you can go in. And when you're inside you have to listen to everything you're told. Understood?"

Harry could sense that this was very important. He couldn't control his voice when he squeaked out a, "Yes".

Bruce seemed to hesitate before he turned and unlocked the door. Harry stepped past the threshold behind him and his eyes locked on Alfred standing across the room. The sight of Alfred in a sweat suit was enough to shock him; he had never seen the old butler in anything other than a pristine tuxedo.

His attention was brought back to his father when Bruce began to remove his sweater and shoes. Clad in just sweatpants and a t-shirt he turned to Harry. "I want you to watch everything we do closely. Don't say anything until we're done, ok?" He waited for a response before turning around to square up with his butler.

Harry watched in awe for next thirty minutes as Bruce attacked Alfred over and over only to be thrown to the floor. He watched as his father was caught in wristlocks and finger locks, about to deliver a punch only to be thrown over Alfred's hip, his arm twisted until he had to submit.

When both Alfred and Bruce were out of breath, they brought the spar to an end. Glancing at Harry, Alfred could see astonishment written clearly over his features. He knew that Harry was aware of his father's alter-ego, but didn't have a clue about his own past. No doubt he thought that Alfred had been born a butler.

Finishing off a bottle of water Bruce walked over to sit by Harry. "The way Alfred was throwing me around, that is Aikido. And that is what you'll be doing every day after school." Bruce put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I know you want to be able to protect yourself but the way I fight is built for someone that is a lot larger and stronger than you. Aikido can be done by everyone. Every day, understand?" Harry nodded profusely.

Bruce looked at Alfred and gave him a nod and then walked towards the door.

Alfred spoke up for the first time since being joined in the room, "This will be the first lesson, Master Harry. You can find clothes to wear in the corner. Put them on and we will begin."

_**May 8 1989 Mid-Afternoon  
>Training Room, Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

The room was filled with thuds, heavy breathing, and the occasional tsk-tsk of the old man.

In the three months since Harry had begun working with Alfred, the training seemed to unveil a different boy than they had seen since the near abduction. Harry was once again laughing and carefree. He roamed the grounds with Kara and enjoyed the visits to the city, all without desperately wanting adult supervision. That wasn't to say he didn't have it, Diana and Bruce were loath to let him wander but the same could be said about all children.

Although he seemed to become the happy boy that his family remembered, he still moved about with caution. Taking time to survey his surroundings every time he went anywhere whether by himself, with Kara, or with Bruce, he kept a close eye on what happened around him; something that made Bruce proud.

Harry and Alfred were in the middle of the mat sparring. The butler held back to make sure he didn't hurt the boy. With Alfred as the attacker, Harry was forced to defend himself using every technique he had learned. Rolling out of the way, Harry pushed away a grab and ducked a kick, allowing him to grab Alfred by the ankle and trip him. Having been in this position before, Harry didn't hesitate to lock Alfred's arm behind his back with a finger hold.

"Excellent Master Harry," Alfred panted. Feeling Harry release his arm, he pushed himself off the floor.

Sitting on the mat side by side, Harry asked the question that had been on his mind since they started this arrangement. "Alfred, how do you know how to fight? I didn't think they taught butlers how to do this stuff." Harry sounded genuinely curious, making Alfred laugh.

"Well, Master Harry, I wasn't always a butler to your family. Once, long ago, I was a young man too," he said with a reminiscent smile.

"So your father taught you how to do this?" Harry asked.

Alfred laughed at the thought of Jarvis Pennyworth fighting anyone. "No, my father never had the need to raise his hands in violence. He had the unique ability to make someone feel ashamed with just a look. He was a butler for the Royal family in Britain, as was his father before him and his father before him. I learned to fight when I joined Her Majesty's Army."

Harry listened as Alfred explained how he chose a different path for himself than what his father had been grooming him for his entire life. "The army allowed me to travel the world, see things that I had only read about in books. It gave me freedom. Not long after that, I was selected to join a very special group. We worked all over the globe making sure bad people couldn't hurt anyone anymore. My father was less than pleased."

"If you were a soldier, then how did you become a butler?" Harry asked.

"My father grew ill some years after I enlisted. So I went back home. In the last few weeks of his life we talked about books and the traveling I had done. He passed away a month later. One of my father's old friends came to pay his respects." He turned to look at Harry. "He had left England to become a butler to Gotham City's elite. It was through him that I met a young soon to be father named, Thomas Wayne."

Harry grinned at the name of his late grandfather. Despite having never met him, Harry felt great affection for the man Bruce spoke of so fondly.

"Then I became involved in a young man's life who is so dear to me that I could not simply walk away. Just as you have become dear to me." He rested his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Alfred stood. "We are done for the day. If you hurry, I believe you can clean up before Ms. Kent arrives," he said as he helped Harry to his feet. "We will go again tomorrow, so rest up."

Harry hurried out of the room, his voice floating back to Alfred when he shouted, "Kara!"

_**May 20 1989 Afternoon  
>Longbottom House, England<strong>_

Augusta Longbottom was by all accounts a very hard woman to please. No one knew this better than her grandson, Neville Longbottom. He had been in her care since an attack on his parents left them near comatose. Their relationship was comprised of her constantly comparing Neville to his parents, specifically to his father and her son, Frank Longbottom.

Augusta swept through the foyer of her home to make sure that everything was tidy for her visitor. A knock interrupted her efforts. Opening the door, Augusta welcomed Albus Dumbledore into her home.

"Hello Albus. How are you today?" Augusta said as she turned and led him into the den.

"Very well, Augusta. Thank you. Are you enjoying the fine weather?" Albus asked.

"Very much so. Tea?" Dumbledore nodded and turned toward the window.

"How is Neville? I hear from Algernon that he has become quite taken with gardening," he said as he sipped his tea. "You must be proud. It takes a responsible person to handle taking care of other living things."

Augusta rolled her eyes. "Yes, he plays in the dirt far too often now. At this age, his father was racing around on brooms and enjoying the world the way a nine-year-old boy should. I don't know where he gets it from."

"Now Augusta, every child's talents must be nurtured. A green thumb is a spectacular thing in one so young," Albus chided his friend. "Neville is more like his parents than you give him credit for."

"I pray you are right Albus, I'm afraid I won't do Frank and Alice justice." Augusta arched an eyebrow in question, "I suppose that you would like to see him now?"

"Yes, I will not be able to spend much time with him today as I have some meetings to attend to before the day is done. So, by your leave Augusta." Dumbledore bowed slightly to the matriarch.

"He's in the garden, just past the bend in the path," she said before turning back to her tea and paper.

Dumbledore walked down the path, coming to a stop at the entrance to a large garden. On the far side, caring for fledgling tomato plants, was Neville Longbottom.

With the prophecy still in play and Harry Potter dead, the world needed hope. Despite all the rumors and crass jokes being said at his expense, Albus Dumbledore cared very much for the people in his life. He used the sorrow and guilt he still felt over Harry's death and put it into making sure Neville was safe and grew up to become a good man.

"Hello Neville," Dumbledore said, attracting the boy's attention, "those tomatoes look superb."

Neville looked up and greeted the headmaster, "Good afternoon Professor." He gently pruned the leaves while he spoke, "Yeah, they seem to be coming along fine. I'm glad there was a lot of rain this season."

"Your grandmother has told me you have spent a lot of time in the garden lately."

"I'm good with plants I guess, but I don't think she likes me being out here. She said my father wouldn't have been playing with plants." His tone echoed the disappointment that he felt.

"Neville," Dumbledore said, gently patting his shoulder, "I think that you are doing something amazing. This is a skill that not many people have, a skill that you should be proud of. I know that your parents would have been very proud."

"Really?" Neville asked, hope visible in his eyes.

"Yes, you are already turning into an exceptional young man and you remind me so very much of your parents. Your grandmother will see it very soon, until then just be who you are," he suggested, causing Neville to smile.

Dumbledore knelt in the dirt. "Now, tell me about these tomatoes…"

_**July 1 1989 Early Morning  
>Master Bedroom, Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

"Wakey wakey," a dark haired woman whispered as she stood beside a bed currently occupied by a sleeping couple.

"Bruce, Bruce, wake up," she whispered again, poking his face. She pulled back, ready to jab her finger forward once more when a large hand caught her wrist, making her squeak in surprise.

"You're lucky I recognized the strong citrus smell or you would've been unconscious," Bruce's gruff, half-asleep voice rasped out.

"Shhh! If you're not quiet you'll wake your friend," she stage whispered.

"Hello Zatanna," the woman resting beside her companion said clearly.

Not bothering to raise her head off of Bruce's chest she spoke again. "Forgive us for not being gracious hosts when you surprise us at," pushing up, she glanced at the clock and whined, "six-thirty in the morning?"

"Why hello," she looked away from Bruce, ignoring the disgruntled look on his face. "Well it seems you were successful in capturing your elusive prince, isn't that right Princess?"

Bruce swung his legs off the bed, preparing to get up, much to Diana's displeasure. "How did you get in here? I have the door locked with three different bolts and an alarm that would've told me if they were tampered with," he asked the magician.

"Magic," Zatanna replied with a grin, making Diana laugh.

"Besides I've decided to visit my favorite nephew, it's been too long since I've seen little Harry," Zatanna said as she sat on the corner of the bed.

"You've never met Harry, Zee. Not much of an aunt, don't you think?" Bruce responded.

She huffed, "Yes well, when my father gets an idea into his head it's hard to shake. I don't know why he thought three years hiking through China would help with our magic. And it's not my fault the league only sends me when they have trouble with magic users, I don't have a lot of help in that area."

Diana gave up the chance of more sleep as a lost cause. Getting out of bed she grabbed a robe and asked Zatanna, "So you're staying here then?"

Zatanna nodded. "I'm on a vacation, so I decided to come and hang out with the always fun Waynes," she said, "and see what trouble I can get Harry into of course."

"Harry doesn't need your help to get into trouble, Zee." Bruce grabbed her by the arm and guided her out of the room, followed by Diana. "He and Kara do just fine on their own. Let's go, Harry and Kara will be up soon."

Bruce, Diana and Zatanna sat in the kitchen sipping coffee. Their quiet conversation was interrupted by the loud stomps of two children running to the kitchen.

"Harry, this is gonna be so cool, all we need is some baking soda and…" Kara stopped at the door as she trailed off, her idea brought up short by the three adults in the room.

"Kara, why'd you stop? The ketchup is in the fridge. I can't wait for the explos-" Harry cut off abruptly. He noticed the look of exasperation on his father's face and the look of amusement on Diana's. He looked down sheepishly. "Good morning Dad, Ms. Diana. Who's your friend?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow at the obvious attempt to change the subject. "Harry, Kara, this is my friend Zatanna Zatara. We've known each other since we were about your age."

Zatanna stood up and walked to Kara. "You must be Clark's cousin. I've heard some very funny things about you," Zatanna said as Kara shook her hand. She turned and looked Harry up and down.

Harry, growing uncomfortable with the appraisal, stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you Ms. Zatanna," he said politely.

Zatanna looked back at Bruce, confusion written all over her face. She grabbed Harry by the hand and pulled him into a hug. "You don't greet your Auntie Zee with a handshake," she said. Bruce laughed at the look of shock that crossed Harry's face when she started swinging him around.

"I think he gets it Zatanna. Why don't you go into the living room and get to know them while Bruce and I make breakfast?" Diana said.

Bruce agreed. "Today is Alfred's day off and he always goes for a run in the morning. Go ahead," Bruce ushered them into the next room, "get to know each other but please, no trouble until we come back."

The couple set to work making a simple breakfast for everyone. Through the door they could hear laughing and the hushed voice of someone telling embarrassing stories. A short time later, they entered the room to see animals climbing all over the furniture.

"Zatanna, again? Didn't Alfred say something about shenanigans?" Bruce mockingly asked.

"Hey! I was eight years old and I didn't know you could conjure a rhino like that!" she huffed. "I can control what I'm doing now."

"Still, we're about to eat, so if you would…" Bruce looked towards the animals, including the rabbit Zatanna pulled out of a hat and the black cat Harry was petting. With a pop, all the animals disappeared, eliciting a soft, "Kitty", from Harry.

"Thank you Zee." Bruce placed the bacon, eggs and bagels on the table in the middle of the room.

The meal was almost over when Bruce noticed that the wand Zatanna used was thrown casually on the couch next to her. "Don't leave that around. I don't want these two," he looked back at Kara who was eyeing the wand, "to have any help with their adventures."

Zatanna laughed. "Oh yes, I've heard what these two are capable of from Wally," she said as she picked up the wand. "But it only works when someone with magic uses it." She tossed it to Kara, who pointed it at her best friend and yelled "Frog," causing Harry to scowl when nothing happened. "See?" Zatanna said with a smirk.

Harry snatched the wand away from Kara, making sure to point it right back at her. Diana interrupted their silent battle when she said sternly, "You've made your point Harry, give Zatanna back her wand."

Harry rose from the couch he shared with Kara and walked the wand back to Zatanna. As he handed it to her blue and white sparks spilled from the tip. Surprised, he dropped it and jumped back.

Harry looked up, spotting the calculating look on Zatanna's face. Slowly, she reached for the wand, pocketing it without a second glance. Without taking her eyes off Harry, she asked, "Bruce? Why didn't you tell me Harry was a wizard?"

"A wizard?" Bruce and Harry said at the same time.

"Yes, a wizard," she said. "You know a wand-wielding, spell-casting, wizard." She turned to face Bruce. "What are the odds, huh?"

"Are you sure?" Bruce asked, needing to be clear.

Zatanna nodded. "Well, the wand test is usually a guarantee but there are other ways to find out," she said. Looking back at Harry, she asked, "Has anything strange happened when you really wanted something?"

Harry tried to think but was interrupted by his father. "Yes…the doors." Seeing the question in their eyes, Bruce continued, "Since Harry came here, we've been having trouble with some of the locks. They swing open for him whenever he wants them to. It only happens for him and only for rooms he visits like the library and the attic."

"Ok, only one more question then. Harry have you ever done something unexplainable when you were nervous or scared?" Zatanna asked.

Harry froze.

Bruce walked over and took a knee in front of him. "Harry, has there been anything else?" he asked softly. He could see the fear clear on his face. Harry nodded and whispered two words, "The game."

Bruce felt his heart clench. Those memories still a hard thing to recall. The feeling of relief he had when he entered the barricaded room to see his son relatively unharmed rushed back, along with the bewilderment of seeing Mitchell lying on the ground, limbs twisted to odd angles.

Harry was pale, his breath shallow. "I'm sorry Dad. I didn't know I could do that. I'm sorry," he said in a rush. His words were cut off when Bruce pulled him into a hug. "You don't ever have to be sorry," he whispered.

"Bruce, where was Harry from before he came here?" Zatanna asked.

"Harry's from England. He was born Harry James Potter," Bruce said casually, unaware of the shock his friend received.

"Harry Potter! But…but you're supposed to be dead!"

There was a chorus of, "Dead?" from the father and son.

"Dead? I'm not dead. Why would you think I was dead?" Harry blurted out.

"After your parents died, you disappeared then 3 years later we found out that you were staying at your aunt's house when…" she trailed off when she saw Bruce shaking his head. "Anyway, Christmas 1984, they found your… a body. They had a big memorial and everything. I've visited it a couple of times," she finished.

"And you," she punched Bruce in the shoulder, "how come you didn't tell me that Harry Potter was your son?"

"We didn't know anything about his past besides what could be found in government databases. Everything else was a Founders' Council issue. No one knows Harry's birth name but the people in this room and those that were there when he arrived," Bruce answered.

Harry, dazed, looked at his father, a little excited. "I can do magic?" he asked.

Bruce laughed. "It would appear so."

Beta'd by AntHil

A/N 2: Again if you haven't yet, reread the other chapters. By now you'll have noticed some changes that can only be explained once you reread them all. Let a few reviews to let my beta know how much you appreciate his work.


	7. Back to the Jolly 'Ole

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics.

**Chapter 6: Back to the Jolly Ol'**

_**September 12 1989 Late Afternoon  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

Bruce had taken months to compile information about Harry's past, the megalomaniac that tried to kill him and the wizarding world in general. Unable to make any headway into the magical community himself, he had used Zatanna for all of his reconnaissance. Although the primary reason he did it was to gain an insight into the world that held his son in great esteem, it also served to answer the questions Harry had about his heritage.

After two months and a trip to England, Zatanna told Bruce everything she could find out and the news he received was troubling to say the least. The world's magical population was divided into nations alongside their non-magical counterparts but, despite the secrecy surrounding them, the actions of wizards affected not just themselves but others who didn't even know of their existence. It worried Bruce that despite their laws and law enforcement agencies there were few checks on the powers of wizards.

In the years following the adoption, Bruce made sure to keep an eye out for any change in Harry's status. Not in all of the available databases, public or government, was there a hint Harry Potter was dead. With the revelation about his "death" in the magical world, Bruce wondered how it had not leaked to the press. The end of a noble line was sure to be news. He assumed the non-magical world kept this information to themselves, but for what reason he didn't know.

Using his wealth and fame to access the more refined social circles, Bruce was able to rub elbows with the British aristocracy. At a charity banquet, he found out that the Potters from Kent were notoriously reclusive and hadn't attended an event in years. They assumed that whoever had assumed guardianship over the young Earl had continued this trend. The unseen heir wasn't seen as suspicious at all.

Bruce sat in his study with Zatanna, who had just finished the preliminary report she had compiled about the state of wizarding Britain.

Zatanna tossed the folder on Bruce's desk and reclined in her chair. "Having any problems with Harry yet?" She started to buff her nails, keeping her eyes on Bruce.

Bruce sighed. He knew exactly what she was referring to. After learning about his power, Harry's natural curiosity had taken over and he immediately asked to visit Britain. "He has. I wanted to get a very clear picture about what's going on there before I make a decision but it doesn't seem like a place I would want to send my son."

"Do you think you would be able to say no, Bruce?" She continued before he had a chance to interrupt. "Harry was just told that he can do magic and his parents were magical and now he knows there is an entire society out there that he belongs to by birth." Her voice softened, "What if it was the other way around and you wanted to learn more about who you are?"

Bruce nodded. He didn't want to think about this now. "How's John doing?"

After the revelation about faux-Harry's death, the League came to the conclusion that the body buried in place of Harry had to belong to the last Guardian. Although it had been years since any type of communication was received from the Oan and he was assumed dead, the confirmation of the fact hit the usually stoic man hard. John had spoken well of the being known as Ganthet and he now mourned the loss of the last of the leaders of the Green Lantern Corps.

"Not well but I think he's getting better. He's been getting out of his funk more and more lately. But you're changing the subject. What are you going to do about Harry?" Zatanna brought the conversation back to point.

"I don't know Zee." Bruce sighed. He realized he was doing a lot of that today. "A part of me wants to help him find the answers he's looking for in any way that I can and another part doesn't want him to have to go through the problems that going back to that world will bring."

He looked her right in the eye and asked, "What would happen if Harry Potter came back from the dead?"

Zatanna couldn't help it, she laughed. The irritated look on Bruce's face only served to make her laugh harder. She tapped her chin and pretended to think about it. "Is chaos a good word? No. How about pandemonium? Yep, that's it." Bruce frowned. "Don't you scowl at me. That is exactly what it would be like. That's the only way I can get you to understand the craziness that would ensue. For anyone to just show up after being dead would be a scandal but Harry … there would be riots in the streets."

And that was the part he didn't like. The fact that his son was a legend, a story told to other children before bed made him just that much more uneasy.

"That's not making it any easier, Zee."

"It wasn't supposed to Bruce, but he needs this."

_**September 20 1989  
>Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting the Planet Earth<strong>_

None of the other founders were surprised by the fact that a magical community lived alongside the normal world; they had all seen extraordinary things. A secret island filled with immortal warrior women always came to mind.

When Superman asked why they hadn't seen more wizards or witches stray into the open, Zatanna replied, "The wizarding world is divided on many things but they agree on one rule, "absolute secrecy". Only the real crazy ones try and expose magic to the rest of the world." Zatanna then explained that the rogue magic users the League had her stop were usually the fringe element of the wizarding world.

"So why are you telling us now? What about the important rule?" Superman asked.

"It's never really affected all of you until now and," she gave her best cheeky smile, "I've never really been one to follow the rules."

Wrapping up the meeting, Batman watched as the others, minus Wonder Woman filed out of the room.

Shortly after the adoption, Bruce realized the lack of knowledge Harry had about his past. Not having much information to give, Bruce told him about James and Lily Potter and the fact that he was from England. Harry had always wondered what his parents were like and whether they loved him. The story of how they sacrificed their lives to save his made Harry both happy and sad.

Harry took the news about his powers well. The initial shock turned into excitement which shifted into a need to learn more about his birth family. In the days since his Aunt Zatanna had returned from England, Harry had started badgering his father for a promise to visit the United Kingdom and a chance to meet more wizards like himself.

Bruce told Harry that he would have a talk with Diana once she got back from visiting her mother. Only after Bruce spoke to her would he make a decision about going to England. That was why Harry found himself sitting outside the conference room with his ear to the door, hoping to overhear the discussion he knew his father and Diana were having.

Batman sat in a chair facing the window and stared out into space. Elbows on the armrest, fingers steepled; he was the very picture of a man lost in thought. In the chair next to him was Diana. The concern she felt was visible on her face and in the way she squeezed his arm.

"You have to at least let him see it, Bruce." Diana spoke quietly. Although she felt the same indecision that he did, Diana knew that denying Harry a chance to discover his heritage, the world he would've be a part of had James and Lily Potter lived, would only serve to make him resent them. Even then, Harry's request was far more serious than a simple matter of letting a child spread their wings. The idea of letting him become part of a secluded community, which, from all reports had a deep seated bigotry and bad case of xenophobia, made her pause.

"It's not that simple and you know it. Once he gets a taste of that world he won't want to give it up," Batman said. He turned to look at her and laughed. "It's magic, Diana. What nine-year-old boy would turn down a chance to do magic?" He shook his head at the rhetorical question. "I _know_ that once Harry does see the magical world he will want to know everything he can about it and there isn't anyone who could stop him," he finished with a sad laugh. He stood and walked toward the window. It was only a moment before Diana followed him.

"Then you need to make sure that he's experiencing it because of you, not in spite of you." Diana voiced his main concern when she spoke again. "He will still have you, me, Alfred and everyone knows we won't be able to pry Kara away from him. And even if anything should change you're still his father and he is still your son. Nothing can change that, not even magic."

Batman turned to face Wonder Woman and said. "You're an amazing woman, Diana." Leaning forward to claim her lips in a kiss, he was stopped by a hand covering his mouth.

"You know I'm not going to kiss you when you have that ridiculous mask on, Bruce." Diana slowly pulled down the cowl, revealing her boyfriend's smiling face. She grabbed his cape and pulled him into a kiss. Letting him pull away, Diana was shocked by what she heard next.

Resting his cheek on the top of her head, he said, "Move in with me."

"What?" Her eyes shot to meet his.

"I want you to move in with me." They stared into each other's eyes, both looking for something they couldn't define.

Diana was the first to look away. "Bruce…Don't ask me now. I don't want this decision to be made because of some trouble that we're facing. I want to know that you mean it. When you ask me, I want it to be because you really want it."

Bruce curled his fingers under her chin and used them to lift Diana's eyes to meet his. "I want you to move in with me … with us. You're already a big part of this family and Harry is as much yours as he is mine. I want you to make our home, your home." He looked right in her eyes, willing her to see the truth behind his statement and what it took for him to ask for this.

"I want you with me."

Diana found what she was looking for causing her face light up in a brilliant smile. "I would love to move in with you," she cocked her head to the side as though she was remembering something, "but only if it's okay with Harry."

Bruce laughed. "Of course Harry is going to be ok with it. He adores you."

Diana's face lit up again. Even though she knew how Harry felt about her, it was always nice to have someone say it aloud. The fact that it came from the second half of her two favorite men was even better.

"Should we go tell him now?" she said causing Bruce to laugh.

He glanced to the door then back to her and said, "I think I can do you one better." Turning his head to the conference room table, he said, "Control, access camera network."

A robotic feminine voice responded, "Camera network accessed."

Bruce commanded, "Conference Room A, hallway." A picture of the hallway outside the conference room appeared on the monitor, revealing two children sitting side by side on the floor, ears pressed to the door. Shaking his head, he said, "Sound."

The conversation taking place outside the door flooded through the room.

* * *

><p>"Kara," Harry whined.<p>

Harry and Kara had become increasingly frustrated with each other. They had been sitting outside for thirty minutes with no results.

"Why don't you try and do something then? Your complaining isn't helping any." Kara shot back. "You're a wizard. Why don't you do some hocus pocus and make the door disappear? C'mon Magic-Boy."

"Don't call me Magic-Boy," Harry growled. It wasn't long before he started whining again. "Are you sure you can't hear anything?"

"I'm trying to, so be quiet!" she hissed.

"Quiet? You're supposed to have super hearing." He stopped when Kara shoved him. Harry narrowed his eyes and pinched her on the arm, garnering a quick "ow" from her.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Stop being a baby. I bet you didn't even feel that."

"Yeah, like you won't feel this." She leant forward and flicked his ear. Pulling back, she crossed her arms and said, "Oops."

* * *

><p>Bruce decided to step in before Harry and Kara's spat went any further. He pushed a button to open the door causing them both to spill into the room.<p>

Kara looked up. "Bruce, Diana. Hi. What a pleasure it is to see you today."

"Harry, Kara nice of you to join us," Diana said.

"Hi Diana, Dad." Harry pushed himself off the floor and stared up at the two adults.

Bruce looked down at his son. He could see the question forming behind Harry's teeth, the question that he so desperately wanted an answer to.

"Diana and I have talked. We've decided that it would be a good idea to visit England-," he was cut off by a loud exclamation of, "Yes!" They all watched as Harry grabbed Kara and bounced in happiness.

Bruce waited until the celebration had subsided before he continued. "We will visit England in the week before Christmas, in December," he said, emphasizing the last two words to make sure that Harry understood that the trip wouldn't be for another few months.

Once Harry processed the sentence, he immediately stopped bouncing and turned to complain to his father.

"What? Why? I don't want to wait til December."

Bruce headed Harry off before his rambling built up momentum. "We just want to make sure that we have everything in order before we go. Remember Harry, of all everyone in this room, you are the only one capable of doing magic. The rest of us will stick out. We are going to wait until we can have Zatanna as a guide and the soonest that she is available happens to coincide with the two weeks you are off for Christmas break. The four of us and Zatanna can have a look around."

"Why don't we stay there for Christmas? How cool would that be? We could see all the stuff they do for the holidays," Harry gushed at his idea.

Diana joined the conversation. "We can't stay because Zatanna is visiting her father for the holidays and I'm pretty sure the Kents want Kara back in Smallville for Christmas." Harry looked down. He wanted to stay longer in the magical world but not if it meant having to leave his best friend behind to do it. Especially on Christmas.

Bruce gave another reason for leaving England early. "And we're going to celebrate Christmas together in Gotham, the three of us, you, me and Diana."

"Dad, we do that every year." Harry rolled his eyes.

"I know but this year we will do it as a family. Harry, I've asked Diana to move into the manor with us." Bruce explained.

Harry's eyes grew comically wide and he turned to Diana. "Really?"

Diana rushed to say, "Only if that's ok with you, Harry. I don't want you to feel like we forced this on you." She knew that she shared a great relationship with Harry but there was a difference between being welcome in their home anytime and living there every day.

"Ok? That's great! It's gonna be so cool." Harry wrapped his arms around her waist. "So when are you going to move in? Can I help?" Harry stopped; a disgusted look coming over his face. "You're gonna be in dad's room, right?"

Diana laughed.

_**December 15 1989 Noon  
>In Front of the Leaky Cauldron, London, England<strong>_

"This is the entrance to the magical world?" Kara asked, her voice loud enough to be heard but low enough not to attract attention. She wasn't impressed.

The group of five stood outside of a rundown pub in the middle of London. Impossible to spot if you weren't magical, a muggle could only see the famous magical landmark if it was pointed out to them by a witch or wizard. Most people didn't even take the time to comment on its horrendous state of repair, their eyes glancing from the boutique on its right to the electronics store on its left.

"Yep, it's the only way into Diagon Alley from muggle London." Zatanna led them through the door only to be spotted by the proprietor, who paled and immediately started shooing them out of his business.

"Oh no, you don't Zatara. I won't have you coming in here and messing with my business again. I want no more of you and your American whiskey. I had to replace all of my tables after you were here and poor Emmeline Vance couldn't show her face in public for a month." Tom spoke hurriedly, herding them back out the door.

Zatanna held her ground. "Don't worry Tom. I'm just here to escort this lovely family around Diagon Alley. There won't be any problems from us, just passing through." Her quick rebuttal and innocent smile only made Tom narrow his eyes.

"Fine, on you get." He led them to the back door and ushered them into a small courtyard.

Kara spoke to Zatanna as she counted bricks in the courtyard. "What did you do to that guy?"

"That is none of your business. Let's just put it down as a good night and leave it at that." Zatanna said with a reminiscent smile, moving to tap her wand on the wall.

Further conversation was stalled as the bricks on the wall started to shuffle away, opening up into a shop-lined cobblestone street. This was the first time that Harry, Kara, Diana and Bruce were able to see conventional witches and wizards out in public.

"And this is the wizarding world." Zatanna waved her hands with a flourish.

Harry and Kara took a step in and their eyes flitted from the storefront windows to the patrons moving about hoping to purchase last minute Christmas gifts. From the broom shop and magical pet store to the post office, they stared with wide eyes.

Zatanna began the tour at Ollivander's and traveled the entire length of the alley until they reached the apothecary at the other end. Just before Harry was going to suggest visiting some of the stores the group's attention was caught by a young pair of redheaded boys, twins from the look of them, who had wandered off from a large family exiting the alley back to the Leaky Cauldron. They stopped in front of Kara and stared.

"Wow," the first twin uttered.

"You are so," the second twin continued.

"Beautiful," they finished together. The besotted look on their faces made Kara blush.

Diana wasn't surprised to see the confused look sprout on Harry's face. She watched as he turned to Kara and tilted his head as if to try and see what the twins were talking about. She worried how Harry would react when his partner-in-crime began garnering extra attention from the male population.

Diana could see that Kara was turning into a beautiful young woman. Kara's athletic build, long blonde hair and bright blue eyes would soon make many teenagers drop to their knees once she discovered her own femininity. Diana understood why these two boys already developed a crush on the girl. She was sure that if Harry was just a couple of years older, he too would look at her like that.

"Thank you." Kara stuttered out.

"And she's American," said the first twin.

"We've always liked the Yanks, haven't we Fred?" The second twin asked.

"That we have, George. Absolutely great people they are," Fred responded.

The one sided conversation stopped when a tiny red-headed girl walked up to Fred and George.

"Fred, George. Mum said hurry up, she's tired of listening to Ron go on about brooms," she squeaked out, not paying any attention to the group of people her brothers were bothering.

The twins didn't even bother to face her. Their eyes were still locked on Kara, who was growing more and more uncomfortable. Her cheeks, once pink from the December cold, were now fully red in an epic blush.

"Not now, I'm still introducing myself to the future Mrs. Fred Weasley," Fred said.

"Oi, how come you get first dibs? I saw her first." George broke out of his haze to turn to his brother. "You know the rules of 'dibs', brother."

"All of that is negated by age. And I, as the older brother, have first call," Fred responded.

"You're older by thirty seconds!" This started an argument of half sentences and chest pokes. The two boys lost in their argument, the group's eyes turned to the little girl who spoke up again.

"Sorry about them." She pointed back to her twin brothers. "Their cauldrons have a few leaks if you know what I mean," she joked, not realizing how much the play on words confused the assembled group. They were all interrupted by a shout.

"FRED! GEORGE! GINNY!"

The girl immediately jumped and ran back towards the exit.

The twin brothers gave their farewells to Kara. The first twin bowed and excused himself. The second twin grabbed Kara's hand and placed a kiss on her mitten covered knuckles.

"Until next time, fair lady." They spoke in unison before running off, shoving each other in an attempt to make it back first.

Bruce looked at Diana, who was struggling to hold back laughter. "Well that was interesting." Diana lost the little control she had and gave a full laugh. They had continued their walk through the alley when Bruce felt his son tug at his sleeve.

"Dad, what were they talking about? Kara's just a girl," Harry whispered to his father.

Bruce looked down and smiled. "Nothing you need to worry about yet, Harry."

_**December 18 1989 Noon  
>Hogsmeade, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

It took them three days to explore Diagon Alley to Harry's satisfaction. He insisted on taking multiple trips to the bookstore called Flourish & Blotts and Quality Quidditch Supplies, a store that sold flying broomsticks. Kara huffed and turned away after hearing Harry say, "Now that's flying." They experienced everything that the introduction to the wizarding world had to offer.

Now Zatanna was taking them on a trip to the small village of Hogsmeade.

Taking them individually through a fireplace, that she called a "floo", they found themselves in a small country inn that doubled as a pub. Nestled in the valley of the surrounding mountains and settled nicely in the shadow of Hogwarts, Hogsmeade made a name for itself as a small town that catered to the students of the nearby school.

Diana and Bruce spent the day walking through the picturesque town, following the children as they listened to stories about the history of the school and the wonders of the surrounding forest.

Zatanna was halfway through a tale about unicorns that had Kara wide-eyed and entranced when they came around a bend in the path. For the first time they could see Hogwarts in its full glory. No longer obstructed by the tops of the trees the school stood imperiously. Its high towers, sprawling grounds and a large lake made it an impressive sight. They came to a stop outside the school's gates.

"This is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A lasting monument to magic in Europe, it was started by four of the most famous witches and wizards ever known. It's over a thousand years old." Zatanna said.

"We can't go in?" Harry asked.

"No, school is in session and they don't just let anyone on the grounds." Zatanna pointed to the school. "That's where your parents went to school, Harry."

Harry stared in wonder.

"OK," Diana interrupted the children's staring, "there's not much to do here. How about we go back into town and look through some of the shops?" She leaned in close to Kara and said, "I think I saw a shop that sells novelty gags that wasn't in Diagon Alley, want to check it out?"

A smirk grew on Kara's face. She was already wondering what she could do now that she had access to magic. She nodded and started to walk back with Diana. Zatanna took a few steps and joined them, leaving only Harry and Bruce.

"How cool would it be to learn magic here, Dad?" Harry sounded star struck, his eyes never leaving the school as he talked to his father.

Bruce had to admit it was an impressive building. The idea of learning magic in a medieval castle was something only thought about in books.

"I think it's time to catch up with the girls, Harry." He pulled his son's attention away from the school, where it had been since they caught sight of it.

"Yeah, ok Dad." Harry drank in the sight of the school one last time and, with a sigh of longing, turned and started the walk back to town.

* * *

><p>After Bruce cornered Zatanna for a short talk before dinner it had only taken minutes to get the necessary information for an outing he had been considering since visiting Diagon Alley. He planned it well. They would leave while it was still dark out and be back before Diana and Kara got up. The plan started when Bruce walked into Harry's room to wake him up.<p>

"Harry, wake up." Bruce whispered. He shook him gently, glad that the nightmares from the kidnapping attempt had faded away.

Harry started slightly. Catching sight of his father he laid still until he could process the information. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Dad? What time is it?"

"Shh. I want you to get up and get dressed. I want to take you somewhere before everyone gets up." Bruce got up and tossed him some clothes. "Make sure you dress warm, it will be very cold where we're going. And try to be quiet, the girls are still sleeping."

The seriousness of his father's demand made him nervous and a little excited. He rushed to get dressed, banging his knee on the dresser on the way out of his room.

It wasn't very hard to keep his activity quiet. Bruce booked a four-bedroom suite for their stay in London. Bruce and Diana, much to Harry's dismay, shared the master bedroom while Harry, Kara, and Zatanna all took their own.

He walked up to his father who was plying a sleepy Zatanna with coffee in the suite foyer. They were dressed similarly in scarves and hats and warm coats.

"Dad, I thought you said the girls were asleep?" Harry looked at his aunt.

Bruce pulled his son closer and made sure he was bundled up. "She's our ride," he said, earning a huff from the witch who finished her coffee and grabbed her friend and his son by the elbow.

"What I'm about to do isn't going to be fun but it's the fastest way to get where we're going. It will feel like you're being squeezed real tight, so I want you to hold your breath and close your eyes. I'm going to go on three." She waited until Harry had done what she asked and started the count. "1, 2, 3."

Harry heard the count and then felt like he was being pulled through a tube. It lasted for just a second then the pressure released, leaving him gasping for breath. The tight grip on his shoulder was the only indication of his father's discomfort as well.

"It's not fun if you aren't ready for it." Harry opened his eyes to glare at his aunt only to be surprised by his surroundings.

The three of them stood in a cemetery. Harry looked up to his father, who wore a somber expression on his face.

"Dad, where are we? Why are we in a cemetery?"

"There is something I want to show you. C'mon." Bruce grabbed his son's hand and began the walk through the headstones, leaving Zatanna at the entrance.

Harry walked next to his father, unsure of the reason for the visit when they came to a stop. He looked up to see a big statue in an opening on the grounds.

**James Potter**

27 March 1960 – 31 October 1981

**Lily Potter**

30 January 1960 – 31 October 1981

**Harry Potter**

31 July 1980 – 25 December 1984

"_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death."*_

Harry froze. The lifelike image of his parents holding him as a baby caught in his stare.

"I wanted you to meet them. I know that you don't remember much before you came to us Harry, but not all of it was bad." Bruce knelt next to his son.

"Do you think they would've liked me?" His soft, hesitant voice barely heard in the early morning.

"I think they would've loved you just like they loved you then. They gave everything they had to keep you safe. They would be very proud to see you now. Just like we are."

Harry stepped forward. He spoke directly to the memorial. "Hi…," he looked back at Bruce, who gave him a nod of encouragement, "Mom, Dad. It's me Harry."

"Thank you for what you did. I wish you didn't have to so … maybe I could've met you. I…" He felt a presence at his back.

"You would be very proud of the type of boy Harry turned out to be. I know I am. We love having him as part of our family."

Harry found his courage again. "This is my dad, my other dad. Bruce Wayne. We live in America. I'm sorry I didn't come to visit sooner but we didn't know what happened until we found out about magic." He gripped Bruce's hand hard. The pain of not knowing them was clear on his face.

"I've never met you but I love you. Thank you for saving me. For everything." He looked up at Bruce with tears in his eyes and said, "Let's go Dad. Kara will be mad if she found out we left without taking her."

"Ok, why don't you run ahead with Zee and tell her about the broom you saw in Diagon Alley." Harry nodded his head and ran to join his aunt. Leaving his adopted father alone with the headstones.

"I don't know exactly what happened but thank you for keeping him safe. I love him as much as I'm sure you did. I swear to you no matter what is happening in this world, I will protect him." With that solemn vow he followed his son and left the grave behind.

_**February 3 1990 Late Afternoon  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

Integrating Diana into the household dynamic was almost seamless. The time she spent as a frequent visitor before starting a relationship with Bruce translated well to the nights she slept over. And the fact that she was always there helped keep Harry settled after the emotional visit to England.

In some ways it served to Harry's strengths. He had a whole new topic to explore and was always seen in random parts of the house, with a book from Flourish & Blotts in his hand. Though there were times when he would become quiet or stop and stare out the window. This all came to a head when Diana and Bruce cornered him one day after school.

They found Harry in the library, sitting on the couch with his nose buried in a copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions._

A soft knock on the door brought him out of his reading and his attention to the two people setting themselves down on the couch next to him.

"How's the book?" Diana asked as she took the seat on his right, with Bruce claiming the spot on his left, earning them a grin. Diana almost let loose a sight of content and reveled in the feeling she had whenever she watched Harry smile.

"It's great." Harry bounced with excitement. "Magical people really do make potions and they use cauldrons, just like in the movies. You can brew things for headaches or to wake you up when you're feeling tired. Magic can do so much!" Diana smiled and put her arm over Harry's shoulder, allowing her to hold Bruce's hand.

Harry had taken extremely well to Diana being there all the time. The one thing he seemed to enjoy a lot were the little touches of affection that Diana gave him. He loved the way she acted around him; the warm hugs, ruffling of his hair, sitting next to him and placing her cheek on the top of his head while he was reading, which was how she sat next to him now, glancing at the pages as he absorbed the text on the page.

Diana placed a hand on the book, shutting it gently. "Harry, we want to talk to you," she said as he put the book down.

"About what?" Harry set the book on his lap, his gaze jumping from one adult to the other.

Bruce took over the conversation. "We've noticed that ever since we came back from England that you've been very quiet. The trip was meant to help you get to know your heritage, not upset you."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not upset. I'm just … thinking." Harry looked up at his father's face and said, "Dad I want to learn about magic."

Bruce looked confused. "We can get you more books if you want, Harry."

His son shook his head. "No. I want to learn magic at school."

Bruce felt the cold in his chest.

Harry continued. "At Hogwarts."

Bruce's stomach dropped. "Harry, if you really want to go to a magical school, we can find you one close to home."

Harry scooted off the couch until his feet hit the floor. He turned around to face his father. "Dad, I want to go to Hogwarts. That's where _they _went to school." Everyone in the room knew who _they_ were. "I want to know more about them."

"Harry, I don't know how I feel about you going to school on the other side of an ocean, in a school full of magic and left in the care of people I have never met before."

Harry stood in front of Bruce. "Dad, if it was you, wouldn't you want to know too."

_**June 1 1990 4 PM  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

The school year had ended for the summer with exams having finished the day before. The teachers had seen the students safely onto the train that morning and already the professors were finishing packing for their vacation. The only exception was Quirinus Quirrell, who was preparing to leave the castle entirely.

"Are you sure I can not convince you to reconsider your decision, Quirinus?" Albus Dumbledore stood at the doorway of the classroom. He watched as his young Muggle Studies professor packed his belongings to begin his yearlong sabbatical.

"I'm sorry Headmaster. If I ever want to l-l-leave the reputation of a coward behind, I need to have p-p-practical exp-perience." Quirinus Quirrell stood behind his desk, expertly packing all of his belongings. He would be gone a full year, a year he would use to expand his knowledge in the Defense Against the Dark Arts. He would have a year to make a name for himself that wasn't solely based on the theoretical aspect of the discipline.

Dumbledore took a step into the room. "You are an amazing teacher Quirinus. You do not need to prove anything to anyone."

"On the c-contrary Headmaster. I have one of the highest scores for Theoretical Defense in NEWTS history and I am s-still not considered an expert, I have everything to prove." Quirrell turned to the aged wizard. "I don't expect you to understand what I'm talking about, Albus. You have lived a charmed l-life."

The younger professor finished packing his books delicately into the trunk on his desk and used his wand to place the pictures and clothing neatly at the bottom. Another flick of his wand and the trunk floated in front of him. Quirrell turned and surveyed the room one last time. Nothing left but the bare essentials.

"I'm sure Charity will be a more than satisfactory replacement for me. Maybe this way I'll have a chance at the Defense position." Brushing shoulders with Dumbledore on the way to the door he stopped when Albus next spoke.

"Where will you go first?"

"First, to the continent. I want to show people what I can do, find things that I've only read about in books. France, Spain, Italy. Then? … Maybe east."

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	8. Here It Starts

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or DC Comics. But I will someday.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Here It Starts<strong>

_**October 21 1990 Late Evening  
>Cursed Mountains, Valbona Pass, Albania<strong>_

Three days.

It had been three days since he was told the tale of a shadow that haunted the darkest part of the mountain pass. In a conversation with the leader of a muggle village deep in the wilderness he learned about the disappearances and murders that happened in the forest. With no footprints or tracks, the superstitious locals had deemed the culprit a vengeful ghost.

At first Quirinus thought it was some sort of malevolent spirit preying on anyone brave enough to venture into its territory. He had jumped at the chance to confront a dark creature and make a reputation for himself and prove to the world that he was as capable as the rest of his colleagues.

Studying the pattern of the attacks, he narrowed down the area where the spirit rested. It helped that he had access to the only person that had ever escaped from it alive. A small girl had encountered the spirit while making her way into town with her parents. They made the terrible mistake of setting off late in the day. After she was found hiding in a ditch yards from the village, she told the town elders of the horrible red eyes that glowed in the night and cried after she recounted running away while her parents screamed in agony. Their bodies were never found.

After having heard the tale, Quirrell set off immediately. It had all the hallmarks of a ghoul and he knew many prescribed ways to go about its exorcism. He wandered the forest for two nights in search of the spirit only to come up empty. Ragged with exhaustion and with his supplies low he decided to head back into town. It was just after sunset when he was packing up his equipment, that he noticed a strange quiet descend on the forest.

Naively, he wrote it off as animals settling down for the night. While unnerving, he didn't see any danger in the fact that all the animals had left the area. He didn't notice the intense darkness that settled feet away from the fire he had built.

For all of the studying he had done, he wasn't prepared for the horrible truth behind the shiver that shot down his spine and the last thing he saw before an unbelievable pain coursed through his body was the most hateful red eyes he could've ever imagined.

_**March 9 1991 Noon  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

It was an unsurprising sight in the second largest bedroom in Wayne Manor. Kara was lying on Harry's bed, reading a teen magazine while Harry sat on the floor, his back against the bed and skimmed through his well-worn copy of _A History of Magic_. His head was at the prefect level for her to reach down and mess with his hair and poke at his face. A normal pastime for the pair, Harry wasn't disturbed and every few minutes would swat at her hands before returning to his book.

"Have you heard anything yet?" Though she tried to ask the question nonchalantly, her tone belied her anxiety.

Harry shook his head. "No."

Kara sat up and asked, "When do you find out if they're going to let you in?"

Harry could see the worry in her eyes. She was the first person he talked to when he decided to convince his father to let him attend Hogwarts. While he was telling her he realized that he was going to be away from home for months at a time, the longest time he would be away since they met.

"I don't know. It probably won't happen until the summer. Aunt Zatanna said that you can't start learning magic until you're eleven." He watched as Kara ducked her head and pretended like she was once again reading her magazine.

"When you become a wizard and meet all the other wizards, you won't forget about me right?" Kara asked in a whisper, eyes not leaving the page.

Harry looked down. The fact that he would be leaving Kara behind had pierced the bubble of anticipation that had been following him around ever since his father agreed to him attending Hogwarts. He had made up his mind, he knew he was going to go to school in Scotland but he didn't want to lose the friendship that had defined his new life. He remembered the year after meeting her when she wanted nothing to do him and hoped they wouldn't regress back to that point when he came back from school.

Despite being younger than her, Harry knew that he was her closest friend. That fact alone was a surprise to everyone that met them. Most thirteen-year-olds didn't hang out with kids three years younger than themselves, and that was doubly true if the older one in the friendship was a girl.

Harry was going to try and make friends with the other students that were going to go to Hogwarts and hoped that Kara could learn to control her powers around others, like she had around him, so she wouldn't be so lonely when he was gone.

"Kara, I'll come back every holiday. We'll still get to see each other. And I promise that we'll do something for your birthday before I leave. You're still coming to drop me off in England, right?" He waited for her to nod. "I promise that you'll be my best friend forever and I'll never forget about you. I've never lied to you right?"

She shook her head and gave him a shy smile. With no warning she pulled him onto the bed. Ignoring his slight chuckle she gave him a hug.

Harry's laughter stopped abruptly. He was surprised by the unexpected action. Until that point, their physical interaction had mostly consisted of shoves, pats and the occasional grapple, normal interactions between a boy and his best friend. So a hug from said best friend had Harry reeling.

"You're my best friend, Harry," she said softly. Kara couldn't see it from where her chin rested on his shoulder but Harry's face broke out into a brilliant smile.

_**April 17 1991 Afternoon  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

Bruce brushed away a leaf that found its way onto his shoulder. It was a clear day in the beginning of April, quite unusual for Scotland. He walked up the path alongside Zatanna. The act of escorting her to the castle served a greater purpose. The physical contact allowed Bruce to pass through any wards designed to keep muggles out.

They had arrived at the castle, as planned, a few hours before dinner was to start. This allowed them to conduct their meeting with the headmaster without being interrupted by his responsibilities to his students. While not sure of this decision, Bruce was going to support Harry in his quest to learn more about the world he was born into. The scene they walked into was what they were hoping to avoid.

"Misters Weasley, I hope I can impress upon you the seriousness of your behavior. That is the third incident this semester. We do not tolerate this type of behavior at Hogwarts." Bruce and Zatanna walked up to see two very familiar redheaded boys being dressed down by an elderly looking man. A very short man looked on.

The boys stood there, wide-eyed and motionless, frightened by the intensity of the scolding. It was the next sentence that sent them into a panic.

"I believe it is time to have a conference with your parents." The twins immediately started begging.

The short man interrupted in a squeaky voice. "Headmaster, I don't think it requires a meeting with their parents. It was just a simple prank. Miss Johnson's hair has already returned to its natural color. A case of rambunctious second years."

The headmaster turned to the small man and said, "Maybe if we our concerns to their parents, they would help put an end to this behavior_._"

"I'm sure they don't need any more incentive. Do you, gentlemen?" Professor Flitwick turned to the twins, making his point clear.

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well, if this happens again, I will make sure to contact your parents. If I am distracted I might have to floo your mother while your father is at work. Understood?"

Vigorous nodding was all Dumbledore received in return from his students before Flitwick turned to the two boys and motioned them up towards the staircase. Bruce heard a snippet of the conversation that was happening between the twins.

"What have we learned from this experience, Fred?" The twin in the lead asked his brother.

"That Dumbledore is damn scary when he's mad-" His twin elbowed him in the ribs. "Never get caught, George. Never get caught." Fred cottoned on.

"Exactly, Fred. Great pranksters never get caught."

Bruce's attention was drawn back to the aged wizard standing at the top of the steps by a tug at his elbow from Zatanna.

"I am sorry. The school is not open to visitors during the school year," Dumbledore told them politely.

To those that knew Albus Dumbledore, the look that the two guests received was unlike anything that graced the aged headmaster's face before. A neutral stare replaced the twinkling eyes that many colleagues and former students had been accustomed to seeing in the past.

Those thoughts were interrupted by Zatanna. "I'm sorry Headmaster but this isn't a social call. We're here to discuss the possibility of enrolling a student in the school."

Dumbledore was already turning away, ready to dismiss them. "All enrollments are done automatically by the school ledger upon birth for all the children in the British Isles."

"Yes, that may be true but this child isn't from the British Isles. I'm here with his father, from America, to try and enroll him." This pronouncement made the headmaster pause.

"Very well. Please follow me to my office." He turned and made his way to the office.

The walk was quick, due in large part to the pace that the old man set. Bruce assumed it was magic that kept him spry, because he had never seen someone of that agetake the stairs two at a time.

After a mildly impressed look from Bruce regarding the moving gargoyle and the extending stairs, they were seated in front of Dumbledore's desk in the headmaster's office.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. May I ask who you are?"

"I am Zatanna Zatara and this is Bruce Wayne, the student's father. We were hoping we could come to some sort of agreement that would allow his son to enroll in the school come September. I'm assuming the school year begins at that time." Bruce looked around the room, though he was taking everything in, his attention was still on the conversation taking place.

"Why would you look to us? There are fine magical academies closer to your home. I see no need to send your son across the ocean for schooling." Dumbledore said.

Bruce joined the conversation. "That is my doing actually. I am very well-known where I am from and while I'm sure the reaction would be less severe in a magical school, I don't want my son to be targeted in a place I can't provide him with protection. I spoke with him about it and we decided to look to other opportunities and we came across this school. It is famous, even in America, for being a quality institution, so we visited the nearby town and my son fell in love with the idea of learning magic in a castle. I didn't have the heart to say no."

"I see." The headmaster's attitude seemed to say that he was doing anything but. "This school has not had a foreign student in over three hundred years but we are expecting a slightly lower student intake this year. I believe that we can accommodate one more. However, I am sure that the magical school closest to you will extend an offer of education with them."

Bruce waved off the obstacle. "We've already contacted all the schools in the country and made our intention to seek enrollment here clear. They weren't happy about losing a potential student but they accepted our decision."

With a nod and a wave of his wand a registration form appeared. Dumbledore handed it to Bruce along with a quill.

Bruce looked at the quill in the older man's hand and reached into his jacket for a pen. With a click, he began to fill in his son's name. "I can have a guarantee that my son will be safe here?"

"As safe as any other magical school, I can assure you. As with all schools there are inherent risks when you have a large group of children housed in the same place for ten months out of the year. When you add magic to the situation, there will be accidents that we cannot stop." Bruce nodded, he had expected an explanation of that nature.

With another click, Bruce stowed the pen back in his jacket. Handing the registration form back to Dumbledore, Bruce stared into the eyes of the man he knew was responsible for Harry's condition when he first arrived at the Watchtower. "As long as that is the only risk my son takes in order to attend this school, I don't think you'll have anything to worry about."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at the implied threat.

Zatanna rose and Bruce followed. "Thank you Headmaster, it was a pleasure meeting you," Zatanna said. Together she and Bruce exited the office.

_**June 12 1991  
>Cursed Mountains, Valbona Pass, Albania<strong>_

The pain lasted for months after he encountered the spirit that night in the forest. Quirinus fought against the spirit's hold with all the strength he had. The test of wills went on as Quirrell was able to hold off his captor from devouring him, like it had the countless other victims. In the end, he struggle was for naught when it eventually overpowered him.

He came around some time in the middle of the day thinking it was a nightmare. The respite lasted long enough for him to sit up before he was knocked onto his back with a scream. The pain, while less intense, seemed to ebb and flow, making him drift into a semi-conscious state. Through it all he could feel a cold presence hovering nearby.

When he was lucid, he could hear whispers of terrible things. Whispers of pain, death and fear.

It wasn't long before he could feel his life slipping away. Using what little mental faculties he had left, Quirrell recalled the parasitic tendencies that most shades exhibited and dispassionately wondered if the slow, overwhelming fatigue was what dying felt like. He knew that his magic was being drained to sustain the existence of his captor.

The pain didn't stop there. It played tricks with his mind, allowing him to see himself, celebrated by others only to wake and find himself on the forest floor once again. It moved through his memories, taking pleasure in making him relive the worst experiences he had suffered through. It was because of this that it realized that Quirrell was a wizard and then the shade revealed its true name.

Lord Voldemort.

Through his pain-induced haze, Quirrell could still feel a twinge of excitement mixed into the all-encompassing fear. He had suffered through the ridicule of his peers for years for his lack of experience but that was at an end. Accident or not, he, Quirinus Quirrell, was the one that had found what was left of the fallen Dark Lord. He had done it using the skills honed through years of study.

The memories trailed each other, one by one, as Voldemort caught up on the events following his banishment.

He watched the news coverage of his most influential followers claiming innocence by coercion. He watched Bellatrix's trial before she and her husband were thrown into Azkaban following her attack on two aurors, the parents of the other possible prophecy child. And then he saw it.

The death of Harry Potter.

Voldemort shuddered with glee. The only one that could stop his return to power had fallen due to the neglect of his muggle relatives. He started forming a plan in his mind, an ironic scheme to twist the knife in the back of the old muggle loving fool.

He would use the death of the so-called Boy-Who-Lived to incite hatred in the hearts of more wizards and witches, inflame them against the muggles responsible for the death of a young wizard. It was a stroke of genius that would allow him to tear away Dumbledore's base of support.

The wizard he had enthralled was a professor at Hogwarts. Young and naïve. The man would do well as a tool to use for his return to Britain. Now he needed to convince the professor to join his cause. He had seen many like him before, easy to manipulate and quick to see his way as long as they were promised power.

'_Yes, this will be the way I return and finish the work I started all those years ago.'_

_**July 31 1991 Morning  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

The morning found Harry sitting on his bed leafing through his copy of _Most Potente Potions_. Even the list of ingredients, too fantastic to imagine, couldn't draw a reaction from the boy that was eagerly awaiting an owl.

An _owl_. Harry couldn't believe it when he saw the post office in Diagon Alley. There were hundreds and hundreds of owls of all sizes, breeds and colors; all waiting obediently for the chance to deliver a piece of mail. And now, here he was, waiting for an owl to deliver the final piece of the process, the letter detailing the requirements to start his first year at Hogwarts.

Harry looked out his window and in the distance, illuminated by the rising sun, was a large bird beating its wings. He smiled when he saw the bundle it carried. He knew the next step was to go shopping for his school supplies and he couldn't wait to get his wand.

* * *

><p>The next day, in an old house, thousands of miles away, another young boy sat on his bed.<p>

Neville Longbottom had received his letter, from Hogwarts, confirming his placement in next year's class the day before. He was to board the Hogwarts Express on September 1 and ride to the school with the rest of the students. The beginning of the school year was a date that Neville couldn't help but look forward to more than anything in the world.

His grandmother had waited anxiously for the owl to appear and when it did, the word excited couldn't begin to describe the look on Augusta Longbottom's face. She grabbed her grandson in a hug and proceeded to pull a trunk out of the attic. Filled to the brim with old school books and supplies, it seemed to Neville that he wasn't going to be visiting Diagon Alley anytime soon. He dreaded what she would pull out of that trunk. Neville knew that she wouldn't hesitate to send him to school with supplies that were almost twenty years old.

She seemed to take no heed of Neville's presence and began to praise the heavens for not cursing her with a squib of a grandson. Neville took it all in stride. Despite constant reassurances from Professor Dumbledore that Neville was very definitely magical, Augusta lamented that he showed no interests in the hobbies that most magical children had. He preferred to "play in the dirt" as she put it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the knocking at the door. Rushing down, Neville smiled when he noticed the aged wizard standing on the doorstep. Twisting the handle, he greeted the only person in his life to show him kindness and not compare him to his father.

"Good morning Headmaster. How are you today?" Albus Dumbledore looked down at the boy who was very important to him.

"I am well, Neville. May I come in?"

Neville stepped aside and closed the door behind his guest. "Gram is in the kitchen making tea. I'll go in and ask her to set out an extra cup. You're here to talk to her right, Professor?"

"Well, no. I was hoping that I could take you to Diagon Alley to get your supplies." His smile slipped when the happy look on Neville's face fell.

"Maybe you should speak with Gram about that."

After the last drop of tea was consumed, Albus requested to speak with Augusta in private. Waiting for Neville to be excused, Albus started abruptly.

"I would like your permission to take Neville to Diagon Alley to pick up his school supplies. A present for starting his education."

"Albus I have all of the books he will need for the coming year in the attic upstairs. There's no need for any shopping."

Dumbledore frowned. "What of his wand, Augusta? Unless you have taken to the craft, there is only one place in the country that he can acquire one."

She waved off the concern, a solution already in mind. "He can use his father's wand. No need to spend more money when a perfectly good wand is upstairs doing nothing."

"That wand was purchased and matched to Frank and will only ever work correctly for Frank. Neville needs a wand that belongs to him alone," Dumbledore argued.

Augusta, however, was not budging. Dumbledore could almost admire the way she clung to the memory of her lost son. "That wand was used by a great man. There is no reason to think that it won't help Neville become the same. My son, Neville's father, was a great man. I just want him to grow up and be the man his father would have wanted him to be."

Albus reached across the table and placed his hand on the grieving mother's. "Neville is going to be a great man, of that I have no doubt. But you are not just hoping for him to be a great man, you want him to be Frank. While that is an admirable goal, Neville is not his father. He has the best qualities of both his parents but he will grow to become Neville and for both your sakes, you need to be able to accept that," he finished softly, noticing the tears in the elderly woman's eyes. She finally nodded.

Dumbledore patted her hand gently and stood. "Since he has most of his things, I will just take him to see Garrick and the wand will be a gift from me."

* * *

><p>After a short trip by floo, Albus Dumbledore and Neville Longbottom arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. After the young boy declined a hand to hold, and ignoring the half-smile on the old man's face, they walked side by side through Diagon Alley.<p>

Standing in front of the shop, Neville couldn't help but feel apprehensive. He wondered what would happen if his grandmother had been right all along and he wasn't magical enough to go to school and that it would show when he tried to get his own wand. As if reading his mind, the headmaster leaned over and whispered.

"You are a strong wizard Neville. Believe that." Neville seemed to straighten and pushed forward into the shop with Dumbledore following after him.

They both walked inside to see an old man fiddling with small tools. Thin and pale, the wandmaker looked like he had watched the centuries go by from behind his counter.

"Albus, I wasn't expecting to see you. And Neville Longbottom, pleasure to meet you young sir. Come for a wand I presume."

Neville nodded but didn't speak, allowing Dumbledore to direct the conversation. "Yes, Garrick. We are here to find a wand for Neville. The lad's eleventh birthday was two days ago and I have been granted the honor of accompanying him on this trip."

"Well then Mr. Longbottom, I am honored that you would come to me for such a personal matter. If you would please step forward so we can begin." Ollivander produced a tape measure that whizzed out of his hand and began measuring Neville's arms, hands, legs and the space between each knuckle and relayed all of the information to a quill and parchment perched on the counter.

Once it had finished, Ollivander stepped forward, hands full of boxes.

"First we have a mahogany wand with demiguise hair. Go ahead, give it a wave." The boy followed his command, producing a single spark before it was snatched from his hand. The wand maker mutter to himself, "No, no, obviously too weak for you."

"Next we have an oak wand with a hippogriff feather. Let's see what you make of it." Neville nodded and waved the wand and produced a sad honking sound. He watched as it too was snatched away.

"This here is a hawthorn wand with a dragon heartstring core. Be careful with it, it can surprise even the most trained wizard." He stepped back and watched as Neville eyed the wand dubiously. A simple flick was enough to blow the storefront out into the alley. Ollivander gingerly plucked the wand out of Neville's shocked grasp while Dumbledore turned to the hole and with a quick wave restored order to the shop. "I can see you have more finesse than a wand like that can provide."

The activity was interrupted by Dumbledore as he stepped closer to Ollivander and spoke in a whisper. "Maybe you can show us some of your more special wands," he said while eyeing a small box covered in dust. Dust collected from fifty years of sitting on a shelf, untouched. Ollivander nodded and slowly shuffled to the shelf.

"This wand has been with me for a long time Mr. Longbottom. Let us see what you make of it."

He handed Neville a sturdy looking wand. Made of holly from what could be read on the box. Almost immediately he grabbed a hold of the wand it started to shake. As the tremors grew more violent, Neville panicked and turned to Dumbledore in fear. After a very long two minutes, the vibrations ceased and Neville breathed easier. That was until the wooden wand began to heat up. Neville held his grip, determined to master a wand and prove himself a wizard. He ground his teeth, hand gripping tightly until the heat became too much and he let go. The wand dropped to the floor and made a soft tinkling sound as if it were made of glass.

Neville bit his lip to keep from complaining about the pain until the headmaster took the boy's hand in his and cooled the burn before wrapping it in bandages.

"No, no, no, that wand has made its answer quite clear on who should become its master." The headmaster's sigh of relief was drowned out in the ongoing conversation. "I'm sorry Mr. Longbottom, I don't believe I have a wand that will suit you. You are looking for a different type of wood, one that I cannot provide."

Dumbledore watched as the doubts that plagued Neville came back with a vengeance. If they left here without a wand he was sure the boy would blame it on the fact that he wasn't enough of a wizard.

"Are you sure Garrick? There are no other wands?" Dumbledore pleaded with his friend.

"Albus if I had anymore wands available I would let the boy try. But the unicorn and heartstring cores are what most of my wands are made of. If you want something different you have to go the colonies or-" The wizened old man cut himself off. He took long strides to the desk covered in small tools.

"What most people do not know is that the wandmaking community is very small. There are few accepted masters of the craft and we all know each other. While we might not get along we respect that the art needs to be continued and through that I discovered this unique pairing. It was explained to me that using the wood of a cherry tree would allow for stronger focus of traditional cores. The wand I was working on was just finished." He turned back and held a fresh looking light brown wand.

"Thirteen inches, rigid, cherry with a unicorn hair focus. It is the very first available in England. "

He offered the wand to Neville, who took it with no small amount of hesitation. "Ok now, give it a wave."

As soon as the wand touched his palm, a warm tingling feeling spread up Neville's arm. Concerned that this wand would also begin to hurt him he decided to do what was required of him and be done with it. One wave was all it took to prove to Neville Longbottom that he was a true wizard.

A soft white light shot out of the wand. Warm to the touch, he pointed it around the room until it landed on the broken sign above the door only to watch it slowly repair itself. Awed, Neville turned to look at Dumbledore who had a soft expression on his face.

"A strong wizard indeed." He turned to the shopkeeper and happily paid for the wand. "Come Neville, before we get you home I was hoping to peruse the new magical nursery that has opened up next to Gambol and Japes."

_**September 1 1991 10:40 AM  
>Platform 9 ¾, Kings Cross Station, London, England<strong>_

Unable to attend due to a family emergency, Zatanna left Bruce with instructions on how to enter the platform. Using the same formula Bruce had when he visited Hogwarts, they each grabbed onto Harry when they approached the wall between platforms nine and ten.

Today was the sad conclusion to what was a fun filled family vacation for all of them. It was fortunate that the trip took place while Gotham City was super-villain free. With the most notorious criminals locked securely in Arkham, Bruce was able to enjoy his last family outing guilt-free.

Their trip included all the famous tourist attractions they missed on their last visit. No longer concerned with visiting magic only areas, they spent most of their time visiting sites like Big Ben or Parliament. Bruce was even able to arrange a private tour of Buckingham Palace for them with the help of the crown prince who owed him a favor from an old card game.

The day before Harry was to board the train, he roped Bruce and Diana into a scheme for an early surprise birthday party for Kara. Nothing over the top, the four of them woke Kara early that morning with gifts and breakfast. Then they spent the entire day doing anything Kara wanted to do. It was no surprise to Bruce or Diana that looking through trendy boutiques was the on the agenda for most of the day. Harry, however, followed along with a confused look on his face because he was rebuffed immediately whenever he made a suggestion that would have led to playing in the park.

Diana usually consoled him afterwards. Holding in her laughter until he said he didn't understand why girls started to act strange when they were about to turn fourteen.

The Hogwarts Express sat idle in the station. Even though it had just over a quarter of an hour left until it was scheduled to depart, it was mostly empty of children.

That wasn't to say that the platform was empty. In fact it was bustling with energy. Older students roamed about, eager to meet up with friends, sharing the story of their past summer. Parents watched over their children, helping them stow their trunks for the long train ride they faced. Watching it all was the group of people standing in the corner.

Kara stared around, in awe of all of the magic on display in front of her. Harry stood between Bruce and Diana, eyes locked on the train. The excitement he felt all summer had abated and was now replaced with apprehension. The train in front of him symbolized leaving his family. For ten months out of the year he would be in Scotland unable to see his father, sit on a couch with Diana and read or play on the grounds near his home with Kara. He didn't know that these exact thoughts were going through Bruce's mind at that moment.

His musings were cut off by a magically enhanced voice marking off the first call for passengers. Fifteen minutes left to board the train.

Bruce assured Harry that they would be in London for the next few days before heading back home, in case he needed to get a message to them.

"This is it, Harry. You have everything you need?" Bruce knelt down beside Harry and went through a checklist to make sure everything was accounted for. His trunk was packed with his folded clothes and books placed neatly inside, the product of hours of packing and repacking that had taken place. "Wand? Books? Uniforms?"

"Check, check and check, Dad." Harry fingered his new wand. Elm and griffin heartstring, thirteen inches. He could still remember the look on the clerk's face at O'Malley's when they visited the famed Canal Street Magical District in New York City. The clerk, the seventh generation O'Malley, told him that he had never seen the normally stable elm wood paired with the volatile nature of a griffin.

Harry would always remember the words of warning after receiving his wand. _"Elm is unrelenting. It does not bend; it holds its shape until it meets a greater force and shatters. And the griffin is a mighty magical creature. It is known for fighting to the death, never heeding its own wounds. This wand requires a master whose matches its own. I hope you understand what you are undertaking, Mr. Wayne."_

Harry could see most of the children his age heading on to the train, eager to follow the instructions. He knew now was the time to find a place to sit for the eight hour train ride to school.

"Maybe I should find a seat." He turned to look at everyone. "Just so they aren't all taken by the time I do go sit down."

The look on Bruce's face showed what he thought of that plan. Diana came to his aid and agreed. "That sounds like a good idea. We can get you all set up and then say our goodbyes before the train leaves."

"I'll help Harry put his stuff away." Kara broke out of her observations. She bent down and reached for Harry's trunk. Harry grabbed onto the other end, mostly for show, and they carried it onto the train.

Finding an empty compartment to leave his things wasn't easy but they were able to locate one at the back of the train. Excited eleven year olds walked up and down the train, introducing themselves to what would be their friends for the next seven years.

When they shut the door behind them, Harry kept watch while Kara lifted the trunk by herself and set it on the rack above the seat. "There you go Harry."

Harry nodded. They stared at each other before Harry broke the silence. "I'll be back for Christmas Kara. And I'll bring the best present you've ever seen." He looked right into her eyes and almost didn't catch her when she lunged forward and grabbed him in a hug. While it may have started off awkward, the hugs were becoming a common occurrence. They were usually started by Kara and only when she was feeling particularly down. Harry patted her back, letting her know he felt the same way. The moment was interrupted when Harry noticed a young blonde boy staring at them with a sneer on his face, who after realizing he had been spotted, continued on his way.

She pulled back and said, "C'mon let's go back to Bruce and Diana." Kara grabbed his hand and led him back to his parents just as another warning alerted them that the train was scheduled to leave in five minutes.

Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. "Be safe, Harry." He smiled when his son wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Bye Dad."

Harry let go and wrapped his arms around Diana.

"Bye Mom." Diana froze. She stopped patting Harry's back and turned to Bruce, who was smiling at her.

Then he turned to Kara and pulled her into a hug. He squeezed the shocked girl, not letting up until he felt her squeeze back. He let go and waved to his family before boarding the train. Harry didn't notice but the same blonde boy was watching Kara with a leer.

The walk to his compartment was hard. Every step he took was one that would lead him away from his family for the next four months. He walked down the train corridor, watching everyone else talking and laughing. It had been a long time since he had made a new friend. Everyone he knew were adults, people he met through the Justice League and his father. The only other person he spent time with was Kara and that friendship had taken a long time to begin.

Doubts were starting to cloud his mind.

He walked into the compartment and stared out the window. He waved back at his father and mother. _Mother._ He felt her go still when he said it but he wouldn't take it back for anything. A long talk with his father gave him the courage to say it to the woman that had been his mother since she met him. He could see the tears in her eyes. He hoped it was because she was happy about what he said.

He hated himself for the sad look that was on Kara's face but he would be back. When the train started moving and they were out of sight, he fell into his seat. That was when he noticed a girl sitting on the opposite bench close to the door.

"Hi." Harry tried to say without his throat closing up. The girl's blue eyes flicked up from beneath her sandy blonde hair. She seemed to study him before she looked back down again.

"My name is Harrison." She didn't even look up. "What's your name?" Still nothing.

"Ok then." Harry quieted. He pulled out a book and read. His attention only interrupted when they passed a stretch of scenery that made him stop and look. It was a few hours before the compartment door slid open again.

In walked the boy that had been spying on Harry and Kara and this time he was accompanied by two others. Harry was on guard but it was all for naught when he was ignored in favor of the girl reading a book.

"Well, well, Daphne Greengrass, too good to come say hi to old friends?" He sat down next to her, his companions still standing at the door. Harry watched as the girl kept her eyes on the book, ignoring the blonde boy as she had Harry.

When she turned the page the book was snatched out of her hand, making her look up. She sighed in exasperation and like she was speaking to a child, said, "What do you want Draco?"

Draco threw the book on the floor. "Don't speak to me as if you're my superior, Greengrass." Harry watched the boy seethe.

"And you need to stop acting as if you're mine, Malfoy." Harry knew he needed to step in once he saw Malfoy reach for his wand.

"I think you should leave." Harry used the same tone his father used when he was being annoyed. He had seen a lot of kids act like this and they always left him alone once they heard the name Wayne. _It was all a matter of acting like you were more important than they were,_ was what his father used to say.

"Who are you?" Malfoy said, as if he just noticed someone else sitting in the compartment.

"Harrison Wayne."

Draco took note of the American accent and said, "Never heard of you," before he turned his attention back to the girl.

Harry wasn't going to be ignored. "I think you should leave. Now."

"Listen here Yank! This is Britain and I am a Malfoy. You will show respect."

"Isn't Malfoy French?" Harry asked. This only served to make the boy angrier. Anything Malfoy was about to say was cut off as the girl he had been bothering let out a laugh.

"This is what you lower yourself to, Greengrass? Spending time with barbarians from the colonies?" Malfoy stood and with the two boys behind him, approached Harry.

"My father is the most powerful man in Britain. One word from him and you'll be sent back to where you came from. You're really no better than a Mudblood." Daphne gasped.

Harry stood in front of Malfoy. "No one wants you here. I think you should leave." He ignored the menacing looks from the larger boys behind Malfoy.

After a tense moment, Malfoy turned and ordered his friends to follow. "Come on, Crabbe, Goyle. The stench is starting to seep into my robes." They exited through the door only to run into a boy with brown hair.

"Out of my way Longbottom. I don't consort with squibs," Draco said as he pushed by him.

After watching them walk away Longbottom looked inside the compartment and then continued his walk down the train.

Harry sat down and stared out the window. Though distracted, he didn't miss the soft, "Daphne Greengrass."

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	9. Fitting In

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Fitting In<strong>

_**September 1 1991 8 PM  
>Hogsmeade, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

The rest of the train ride was uneventful. Daphne returned to her book after Malfoy had left and didn't speak for the rest of the trip. Harry was more than content to enjoy the happy to enjoy the scenery in silence.

It was an hour later when they came to rest at a station, not far from the village of Hogsmeade, and Harry and Daphne disembarked along with the rest of the students. Stepping off the train, Harry hung back, taking a moment to enjoy the view of the small town in the distance.

He was drawn to a large man holding a pink polka dot umbrella who was standing at the far end of the platform, shouting for attention.

"Firs' years! Firs' years! Come wit' me!"

Hearing the announcement, the youngest students gathered around, scared to stand too close to the giant. Making sure there were no more stragglers, the gruff looking man introduced himself.

"Hello everyone, my name is Rubeus Hagrid and I'm the groundskeeper of Hogwarts. You're gonna follow me to the lake and we'll get you to the school." Watching the nods, Hagrid led them down a path in the opposite direction of the older kids. Coming to a stop at the end of an old pier on the lake, he waved his umbrella in a figure eight motion.

The students fidgeted behind him, wondering what they were waiting for, when a fleet of small boats appeared in the distance. Guided by magic, the boats docked up and down the pier. A simple command of, "Four to a boat," was all that was needed to send them off in a hurry. No one wanted to be left behind.

Hagrid, taking up one boat by himself, made sure everyone was seated and secure, before he tapped his umbrella on the bow of his boat, launching the fleet.

The first time Harry had seen Hogwarts, he was awed. The sight of a majestic castle sitting on expansive grounds covered in fresh fallen snow was like something out of a story book. He would admit it was one of the most fantastic sights he had ever seen, but after the boats made it around a long bend, that image paled in comparison to the view that he saw now.

Sitting on the cliff overlooking the lake was Hogwarts. Illuminated by the lights of thousands of candles, it shone in the darkness. He could hear a girl in the boat to his left lecturing her fellow riders on the importance of the castle's position, the turbulent times in which it was built owing to its emphasis on defensibility.

The view was cut off as they entered a narrow waterway that flowed underneath the school. The waterway was lit with torches, bathing the boats in a glowing orange light until it opened up into a large chamber. At the far end Harry spotted a small pier, identical to the one where they boarded the boats.

Their approach was watched by a tall, lone figure dressed in a dark green robe and a traditional witch's hat.

Professor McGonagall stood stoically by the door, waiting to relieve Hagrid. Her thoughts were a mixture of grief and anger. Grief over the loss of what should have been a joyous day and anger at herself and the one she felt was most responsible for her pain. She kept all of the pain behind a tight mask to help her survive the day.

This was supposed to be the year that she was reunited with Harry. The memory from that Christmas day was repeating itself over and over in her head. The letters scribbled in green crayon, the leaves of brown paper littering the floor. It took everything she had to keep from breaking down at the idea that there wouldn't be a Harry Potter to sort that evening.

'_No. I will make it through tonight. I will make it through tonight,'_ she thought to herself. A bottle of goblin wine waiting in her quarters was the goal for the evening.

Minerva watched as wide eyed children left the boats and formed a circle around her. Catching Hagrid's eye, she said, "Thank you Hagrid, I will take it from here." Seeing his nod she turned back to the students. Not one of them realized that she failed to look at any of their faces. The hard truth of not being able to see a pair of shining green eyes looking back was too much for her.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of this school. Very soon I will lead you to the Great Hall, where you will be sorted into your houses. The houses are Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, named after the four founders of our school. From the moment you are sorted to the day you graduate your house will be your family. Your achievements and your failures will not only affect you, so behave accordingly. House points will be given for good deeds and taken away for infractions. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the House Cup. Use this time to make yourselves presentable, I will come back when we are ready for you."

Making the warning clear, she turned and headed through the door and into the school, leaving behind a mass of eleven year olds yammering nervously to each other. Harry used the respite to take in his surroundings. His attention was more focused on the people he was with than the place he was in.

To his right, against the far wall, stood Daphne. Her back to the group, she faced the door. With her book in hand, she was unconcerned with the mutterings of the rest of the children.

Closest to the door, bouncing on her toes, was a bushy haired girl who seemed to want to be the first one into the school. He could hear her reciting the spells she knew under her breath. From what Harry could remember from his reading, she had an impressive repertoire.

Far from the group was the Longbottom boy who Harry had seen run into Malfoy. He sat on the pier, legs swinging above the water. He was focused on the small passage they used to enter the underground harbor.

And lastly he spied Malfoy standing in the middle of a group of people, holding court. He didn't look concerned in the slightest. Harry could overhear Malfoy saying that his father would take care of everything and make sure he was sorted correctly.

Harry's observations were interrupted when Professor McGonagall returned.

Her gaze sweeping over the group, she said, "We are ready for you now. Follow me." With no hesitation, the chatter died down and they followed the stately woman into the castle and up a flight of stairs. They entered a large hall.

It was amazing. There were hundreds of children, sitting at four long tables that filled the hall. The tables were lined perpendicular to the large, ornate table that seated the professors. Everyone's focus seemed to be on an old hat placed haphazardly on a stool in front of the teacher's table.

The first years watched in amazement when the hat began to sing about its job. The sighs of relief from most of the first years were barely audible. Not one of them was prepared to prove anything about their magic.

Professor McGonagall spoke, silencing everyone in the hall with her introduction.

"We will begin with the sorting. When you hear your name called step up to the stool and place the hat on your head. When you are sorted, place the hat back on the stool and join your house.

"Abbott, Hannah." Knowing his name would be one of the last, Harry took to looking around and studying the tables of students. Each table had its fair share of students, the differing emblems and colored ties setting the houses apart.

The different colors matched with the banner hanging over the teacher's table. Harry looked up at the four animals and wondered, '_Which am I?'_

"Greengrass, Daphne." Harry watched as the only person he had spoken to civilly was called up. She placed the hat on her head and waited. It was just a moment before the hat spoke out, "SLYTHERIN!" Harry clapped politely along with one fourth of the student population.

"Longbottom, Neville."

Neville calmly walked to the hat. Just a moment after it was placed on his head, it screamed out "GRYFFINDOR!" He walked to the table with his lips barely turned up.

Moving through the students alphabetically, she called out, "Malfoy, Draco."

His sorting was much quicker. After strutting up, it was barely placed on his head before it screamed out, "SLYTHERIN!" He joined his table like a prince joining his subjects.

The sorting continued on until Harry was one of three people left standing. He stood to the left of a freckle-faced redheaded boy who was scowling at the dark skinned boy to his right.

"Wayne, Harrison" Hearing his name he walked up to the stool, back straight and head high ready for the stares he knew were coming. The talks with Zatanna had let him know the closed off mentality of the wizarding community in Britain. It stood to reason that most of the children would know each other or at least know of each other's family. To them he was just a foreigner, some American.

Sitting on the stool, the hat fell down over his eyes. The hat's lips covered them before they widened in shock at the voice in his head.

"_Now let's see what we have here."_

"Stop! What's happening? Who are you?"

"_The sorting hat of course and I am sorting you."_

"And you can see into my mind?"

"_How else would I be able to sort you? Be calm Mr. Wayne. I can't read your thoughts, only your character, no need to fret. So where should I sort you, hmm?"_

"Is it my choice?"

"_Oh heavens no. All sorting decisions are mine alone, my purpose for being you could say. I was simply thinking out loud."_ The hat gave a mental chuckle at its terrible pun. _"The choice would have to be between Gryffindor and Slytherin. You have a fair bit of courage, no denying that. It will carry you far. But I also see some cunning, perhaps a secret you are hiding from everyone? You are skilled at deception, a rare talent in one so young. Working it out aloud always helps. There is only one place to put you."_

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry put the hat back on his seat and walked to the table that was clapping mildly in celebration. He watched as Ronald Weasley and Blaise Zabini were sorted into Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively. Once the sorting hat was collected the hall's attention was grabbed by the headmaster introducing himself and the school.

"This marks the beginning of another year at Hogwarts. To those just sorted, welcome. You will find that the friends you make here will be with you for the rest of your life. Choose well. For all those returning to us, welcome back. Before we begin the feast, I want to make sure that everyone understands what is off limits. The Forbidden Forest, is as its name suggests, forbidden. Any student found breaking that rule will be brought to my attention immediately and will face severe consequences. Everyone should also take a look at the banned property list located outside Mr. Filch's office. He is the gentleman to my left and the school's caretaker. Anything on that list will be confiscated and those found in possession of these items will face detention. Lastly, the third floor corridor is off limits to everyone, prefects and head boy and head girl included. There is a significant danger posed to all who approach it, so you would do well to avoid it. Anyone caught attempting to enter the corridor will face expulsion." He let the threat hang before continuing.

"The rules for the year are simple and your heads of house will answer your questions in more detail. Take this time to get to know your housemates or reconnect with old friends. Let the feast begin."

* * *

><p>The feast ended quickly. Professor McGonagall rose from her seat and spoke to the students. "Prefects, lead your housemates to the common rooms. The first years are now your responsibility."<p>

Fred and George Weasley waited in their seats as their table emptied. Tonight was a prime opportunity for some pranking, the harsh words of their headmaster long forgotten. And they knew just what they needed to pull it off. George looked at Fred, eyebrows twitching he signaled his brother. It was time.

Rising from the bench simultaneously, they strolled to the exit at a leisurely pace, allowing everyone to file out before them. Taking a quick look around, George decided the coast was clear and pulled a folded wad of parchment from his pocket.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." A large map appeared, complete with moving dots labeled with names. He and his twin searched for the Slytherins, guaranteed targets for any pranking venture. They quickly spotted the large mass of students heading to the deepest part of the dungeon. The individual names were lost in the jumble of bodies walking down the corridor. They were so caught up in their observations they never noticed a smaller redheaded boy walk up behind them.

A loud, "Hey what's that?" made them jump. George dropped the map in surprise. They both turned to see their younger brother, Ron, stoop down and pick it up.

"Why are all the dots moving?" Ron shied away from the approaching twins, holding the map out of their reach.

Fred put his hand out, too focused on retrieving the map to notice a large shadow over his shoulder. "Ron, I swear on the Marauders, if you don't give that to me now, I'll-" Whatever he was going to threaten him with was cut off when a professor, dressed completely in black, snatched it away from Ron.

"What do we have here?" Professor Snape curled his lip at the sight of the three red heads. He scanned the top of the parchment, his eyes going wide with realization. With a sneer, he brought his wand tip to the aged sheet and set it aflame.

"This is an enchanted artifact. You know the rules concerning these magics. That will be a week's detention for possession of a banned artifact. I want to see all three of you in my classroom for detention, starting tomorrow night." He then turned and stalked out of the Great Hall to the sound of Ron arguing the idea of getting detention before school even started.

His words were lost on the twins. They watched in horror as the greatest invention they had ever known was reduced to smoke and ash before their eyes.

_**September 2 1991 9 AM  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

The first day of classes started off uneventfully. Harry had woken earlier than his dorm mates, using the alone time to explore the school. He walked through the corridors examining suits of armor and greeting the moving portraits.

The little time before curfew was awkward. Harry's first meeting with Malfoy was already the talk of the dungeon. As it turned out, Draco Malfoy was the sole heir to one of the oldest wizarding families in England and was treated like royalty by most of the country. That bit of information from Blaise Zabini, just before they went to bed, made Harry snort.

'_Big fish, little pond,'_ was the thought that popped into Harry's head before he drifted off into sleep.

The first class of the day for the first year Slytherins was a shared Herbology class with the Ravenclaws. Neither house had any students that were particularly interested in repotting plants so it passed without incident. Their next class proved to be far more interesting.

Walking with the rest of his house, Harry made his way to the largest classroom in the transfiguration hallway. It was time for a double class with the Hufflepuffs. He was lost in his own world, mind on Kara, when a hand pulled on his bag. It had been one day and he already knew that voice.

"I wrote to my father about you last night, Wayne. He's on the school's Board of Governors and he knew all about you applying here from America. And he told me something interesting about you." Harry rolled his eyes at the dramatic lead up.

"Oh really? What interesting thing has your father learned about me?" He knew there wasn't much to learn. His life as Harrison Wayne had been too well established to leave any chance of someone discovering his birth name.

"The registration form listed your parents as muggles." His announcement was followed by a long silence. Unsure of their opinions before, many of his housemates now looked on with barely concealed disgust.

"So? Any other obvious facts you would like to point out Malfoy?" Harry faced his harasser. He could see the look of uncertainty on Daphne's face as she took in the scene.

"No Wayne, I just want to know how you tricked the sorting hat into letting you dishonor our noble house. No Mudblood has ever been sorted here because Salazar Slytherin wouldn't have wanted you here." He pointed at Harry. A sharp voice rang through the air.

"Mr. Malfoy! I will not have such disgraceful language used in this school. And to a member of your own house! That will be thirty points from Slytherin and two nights of detention starting tonight. First day of classes and you are already starting off on the wrong foot. Anymore incidents and I will be sending you to the headmaster. Is that clear?" Professor McGonagall's sudden appearance and anger filled rant left the young blonde stammering.

"We are already late Mr. Malfoy, don't compound your mistake by taking up more of my time." With that she moved away from the door and waited for the portion of the class missing to file into the room.

Harry was one of the last to enter the room and found himself the subject of stares. Quickly scanning the room he found the last empty seat, the lone desk in the back.

"Transfiguration is a key element of everyday living." McGonagall walked up and down the aisles of desks, wand in her hand. "It is a practice used to change an object or person into something else. Once you have gained a reasonable amount of control over that, a large portion of the class will be devoted to conjuring."

"It is used in the home." She waved her wand and the cup on her desk became a goblet.

"At work." Another wave and her chair became a large workbench.

"And for any other life experience you can imagine." She conjured a sword which then morphed into vase, then a mouse and finally into a jacket.

"When you are advanced enough, you can practice this art on yourself and you may even become an animagus." Before any of the students had a chance to ask what an animagus was, she transformed.

In place of the stern professor was a black tabby cat. After a simple trot back to her desk she changed back. Minerva didn't pay any special attention to the looks of awe on her students' faces. She often used that skill to impress the first years, a trick she used year after year. It was due to her nonchalance that she missed the look on the face of the boy sitting in the very back of her classroom.

Harry listened attentively to the professor's speech. He had taken to the theory of making something out of seemingly nothing very well through the use of his books. He was impressed when his teacher started to morph herself into an animal but it was the sight of the cat made him freeze. Harry couldn't explain why, but he felt an overwhelming connection to it. He swore he could hear a soft, "Kitty," being whispered.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry stared off into space, the rest of the class shielding him from view.

_**September 15 1991  
>Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting the Planet Earth<strong>_

Kara walked aimlessly through the space station. It had been a long couple of weeks since she had seen Harry, her only friend, off to school. The years of isolation had taken their toll and left Kara unsure of how to interact with people who didn't know of her powers. High school had only reinforced her social shortcomings.

The first few weeks of high school had dragged on for Kara. Her tomboy attitude and tendency to roughhouse made it awkward for her to befriend any of the other girls her own age. She was left at a disadvantage, growing up with a boy for a best friend. That, coupled with the odd looks she received from the boys at the school, made her brief high school career very lonely.

Since dropping Harry off in London, she had taken to wandering around the Watchtower, a lost look on her face. It was a day like any other when, halfway through her pacing, she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She wasn't startled. Her newly developed super hearing was spotty but she was able to hold it when she focused and right now she liked to focus. Keeping her mind on her surroundings allowed her to forget that Harry was so far away.

Zatanna pulled Kara close to her. She had seen the looks and the pacing that Kara had taken to in the last weeks. Although she was worried, Zatanna couldn't help but think about how cute it was for the girl to be pining for her missing friend.

"You ok, Kara?" Zatanna threw her arm around Kara, making it easier to guide the young girl towards the cafeteria.

"Yeah," Kara said softly. She looked down, not paying any attention to their destination.

"You miss Harry don't you?" Zatanna didn't wait for an answer. "I know you do. The two of you have been inseparable for years. It has to be hard with him away for so long. But now he's off learning magic and you have no one to talk to."

Walking her over to an empty table, Zatanna pushed the unresisting girl into a seat. "Harry will be back for Christmas and I think he will be just as anxious to see you as you are to see him. I bet he misses you very much right now."

"I thought since you just started high school, you would be hanging out with your friends, talking about boys, going to the mall, normal girl stuff."

Kara looked away, embarrassed.

"Oh, I get it. You've been so busy hanging out with a boy you never really had girlfriends. That's ok; Harry's your best friend. You wouldn't want to change anything about your friendship with him right?" She waited to continue until after she received a nod. "But now that he's gone, I think it's time that you embrace your feminine side. Hanging out with Harry is great but he wouldn't want you to be lonely while he was away, right? You're a young woman, sometimes you need to do what girls do. And I am going to be the one to teach you everything you need to know."

"What are we going to do?" Kara asked.

"You and I are going to go hang out, maybe shop a little bit, get you some new clothes. Then we're going to talk about boys and when you go back to school you're going to be able to fit in with the rest of them."

_**September 17 1991 Just After Midnight  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

It had been a slow night. A few purse snatchers and a foiled assault on a couple leaving a movie theatre was what Gotham had going for the night. With the recent recapture of Penguin, the streets were quiet so Batman decided to retire early.

The manor was quiet, far too quiet. Empty except for Alfred, it was a living testament to what life was like before Harry stumbled into their lives. With Harry gone, Kara had no more reasons to visit and the house was left with almost no life. The only bright spot Bruce had left was Diana.

She felt the same emptiness that Bruce had felt when they arrived back home sans Harry. After sending Kara home with Clark, she spent most of that first night trying to distract Bruce and keep his mind off the now empty house. He stood on the terrace connected to his room, lost in thought, when a pair of arms circled his waist and a body hugged him from behind.

"How was patrol?"

"Quiet. A few lowlifes out trying to make a quick profit and a little gang activity before I decided to call it a night."

"That's good right?"

"Very good." He put a hand over the ones now clutching his chest. Turning in her arms, he faced the woman that was now the source of all the laughter he had in his life. He wrapped his arms around her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, holding her close until she pulled back.

"He'll be back, Bruce. He's excited about learning something new, something so amazing but he won't give this up, give us up. We're a family. He knows that." She kissed his lips. "I miss him too."

"Thank you."

"There's no need to thank me Bruce. I'm going to try and help you anyway I-" Her speech was cut off by a smothering kiss. Once he was sure that she wasn't going to continue with her line of thought, Bruce pulled back.

"Good, I found a way to stop you." He grinned at the not so soft swat to the arm. "I wanted to say thank you, for everything. For never giving up on me, for being a mother to my son," he laughed when she blushed at the memory of the train station, "and for being here and helping me get through this."

"You are one of the greatest things to ever happen to me and I'm so glad the other greatest thing loves you as much as I do."

_**October 3 1991  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

Pain. Unimaginable pain. He had suffered far worse for his failure than he had for the months his life was drained at his master's hand.

After pledging his life to serving his master, Quirrell helped sneak him back into the country. In a lone cottage, nestled in the country, Voldemort devised a plan to return to power. A few weeks before the school year began and Quirinus was to report back to Hogwarts, Voldemort hatched his plan.

The Philosopher's Stone was a world famous invention, known for its ability to transform any object to gold and make the mythical Elixir of Life. Property of Nicolas Flamel, the stone was kept in a vault in Gringotts, the near impregnable bank run by the goblins.

Aided by Voldemort's presence and knowledge of the Dark Arts, Quirrell would have been able to reach the vault in which it was stored and pilfer his prize. The stone was the easiest way to return to a corporeal existence. The infiltration of the bank went as expected until the moment the vault door opened. Voldemort cursed in rage at the sight of an empty vault, promising his servant punishment for the failure.

Quirrell was reduced to a curled up ball, lying on the floor of the cottage. At times too weak to form words, at others screaming in agony. Voldemort punished him for failing to retrieve the stone quicker. The first respite from the torture came days later when they were interrupted by an owl holding a letter from Hogwarts.

The headmaster wanted a meeting will all the teachers. The letter read that a very important artifact was the object of an attempted theft and the owners requested it be kept safe in Hogwarts. Voldemort quickly deduced that not just anyone would have been able to call on the services of Albus Dumbledore and request a guard, which along with the timing of their failed heist made the connection for him.

Not trusting his servant to fulfill his duties, Voldemort decided to take Quirrell as a host. For short amounts of time, the parasitic shade was able to control Quirrell's willing body until the body's magic began to fight it off instinctually. Without a magical core, Voldemort was unable to keep his hold and was forced to an outgrowth on the back of Quirrell's head.

The protections placed on the stone weren't extraordinary, just cumbersome, and would take time to unravel. They spent the last few weeks at Hogwarts in order to stay close and study the enchantments in place, but that wasn't the only thing Voldemort observed.

It was the first Defense class that he came face to face with the only other person in the world that could stand in his way. His eyes were on Neville Longbottom the moment the boy walked into the room. Age and scandal had pushed Dumbledore aside; his power was on the wane. Harry Potter was dead, starved to death in his own home, leaving the prophecy to be fulfilled by the child quietly completing the reading in front of him.

* * *

><p>Nightmares weren't uncommon for him growing up. He had nights where he would wake up shivering in his bed, feeling an unbearable cold in the middle of summer. The run in with Mitchell replaced them as images that fueled his nightmares. Now as Harry thrashed around in his bed, he was haunted by events that he couldn't remember. Parts of sentences, blurry faces and red eyes were all that Harry could make out.<p>

_"Lily, it's him! Take Harry and run!"*_

_"No! Please, he's just a baby. Not Harry!"_

"_Nothing and no one will stand between me and everlasting life." _

"…_Please don't take my son from me."_

Red eyes. A wand. He could feel that this man wanted him dead. He wanted to finish the job he started.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry woke with a gasp.

He sat up in his bed, the dream already fading from his mind. He hadn't been shaken by a nightmare so bad in years. The only thing he could remember were red eyes that seemed to glow. He pulled the covers tighter around himself, trying to ward off a shiver. He stared up at the canopy of his bed for hours, the red eyes imprinted in his mind.

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p>

**A/N: **_I am looking for a second beta if anyone is interested. Private Message me and we'll start a trial run to see how you do. Please only apply if you are good at grammar, spelling and sentence structure. Thanks_****


	10. Making Friends is Hard

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Making Friends is Hard<strong>

_**October 7 1991 7 PM  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

Dumbledore sat at his desk, completing the paperwork that his official positions produced. Despite the tedium of the task his mind was relaxed, lulled into a stress-free state by Fawkes' singing.

The peace was disrupted by someone hammering on the door. He rubbed his eyes, irritated.

"Enter." The door swung open, slamming into the wall, to reveal his potions professor. Pale and clad all in black, Severus Snape stalked through the door, a sneer on his face.

"What can I do for you Severus?"

"Why didn't you tell me about Wayne?" He paced back and forth in front of the headmaster's desk, agitated. "Why, at any time during the past month, didn't you tell me who he is?"

"Severus I am tired, and I still have more work to do, so if you would please find the point that has you so riled up." Dumbledore leveled a glare at Severus.

"You knew he was a muggleborn and you didn't tell me. The only muggleborn sorted into Slytherin in recent memory and you don't notify me the moment it happened!" Snape emphasized his point by slamming his hands down onto the desk.

Dumbledore's lips thinned. "I did not see the point of notifying you that a student had been sorted into your house when you were there to witness it. He is no different than any of your other students. I find myself disappointed that you seem to have found a distinction between the two. The other teachers have reported that though he is an exemplary student he tends to sit by himself in class and I have observed the same during meals, though he isn't unapproachable."

"He is alone because he is a Slytherin and a muggleborn. The rest of the school will ostracize him because of where he sleeps and his house will look down on him because of who he was born to. I could have prevented this if I wasn't informed by a prefect." The unspoken _'Instead of being told by you,'_ was easy to catch.

"So I assume Mr. Wayne revealed his heritage to his housemates," Dumbledore inquired.

Snape snorted. "No, before it came out Wayne was getting along just fine with the rest of the house. From the way he carries himself you would think he was royalty which, coupled with his quick mind and sharp wit, garnered him some respect. Most Slytherins assumed that he was from some American pureblood family. Now though, they won't come near him."

"How did they find out if he did not tell them?" Dumbledore asked, confused.

"Draco wrote to his father about Wayne after being humiliated by him on the train. Lucius used his position on the Board of Governors to access the boy's enrollment information and passed it on to Draco, who reacted the way Lucius raised him to."

"I will not tolerate bigotry and hatred in this school, Severus. You will discipline them. Make sure that your house understands the rules of decorum and abstain from using whatever horrid word they are using now to describe their fellow students that come from non-magical homes."

"Understood, Headmaster." Snape walked to the door only to be stopped by Dumbledore's voice.

"The same goes for you as well Severus. You will stop harassing Neville Longbottom in some pathetic attempt to assert authority in your classroom. You are a teacher, first and foremost." He didn't allow Snape a chance for a rebuttal and continued on, his eyes pinning the potions professor on the spot.

"You will treat all your students the same way. The color of their ties and where they sleep will not be used against them when in your class or in your care. Is _that_ understood?"

A curt nod was all he received in response before he stormed from the office. Dumbledore relaxed back in his chair to the sound of Fawkes' soothing song.

_**October 13 1991 11 PM  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

The Gryffindor Common Room was a hotbed of activity on Friday night. The older students took advantage of the lax stance on lights out and occupied the study tables located opposite the large fireplace. Though the year was young, most of them were devoted to their studies.

The younger students lounged on the chairs and couches, taking a break from the monotony of their week. Card games and gossip was the order of the day for most them. Sitting in the comfortable chair closest to the study tables was a young muggleborn girl named Hermione Granger.

In the few short weeks since the start of term she hadn't made any friends beyond the casual acquaintances from class. Her enthusiasm in the classroom had annoyed most of her classmates. She had been labeled a "teacher's pet" from the end of the first day.

In the weeks since their first class, Hermione had heard the unkind things whispered about her in class. Being the first to enter a classroom and the last to leave, she caught snippets of conversation; mostly about her and the way she acted in class. The nastiest comments came from a boy in her year named Ron Weasley. The name calling started after she declined the offer of finishing his homework for him because she, "obviously liked doing it, so have at it". The teasing and isolation became worse after that.

Her dedication to the rules didn't help. Tonight was going to be just another example because she could hear a conversation going on to her left, where her dorm mates and three first year boys sat on the floor playing cards. The remaining boy sat on the floor with his back against a chair, reading a book.

"I think the best time would be tonight," Ron whispered conspiratorially. "The third floor corridor has to have something really cool for it to be off-limits. It's a quiet Friday and no one should expect anyone to go there."

"I dunno…" Seamus Finnigan said quietly before he was cut off by Dean Thomas, the dark skinned boy to his right.

"C'mon Seamus. We could go out after curfew, take a look around and be back before anyone notices. What could go wrong?"

Hermione had heard enough. Putting the book down, she walked over to the group. "A lot could go wrong!" she whispered fiercely. Seeing that she had grabbed their attention she continued, "We are leading in House points and if you're caught it could seriously jeopardize that. You heard what Professor Dumbledore said, if anyone is caught trying to sneak in there than they will be expelled."

Ron's angry voice stopped her before she could list any more reasons. "Who asked you, know-it-all? If we wanted your opinion we would've asked for it but we aren't inviting you." Ron looked back at the group and he could see the worry on their faces. "We wouldn't get expelled. My parents told me stories about Dumbledore when they went here and he was always letting them off when they snuck around. The most he would do was make us scrub floors," he turned back to Hermione and continued, "but that won't happen because we won't get caught."

"She's right. The headmaster meant what he said about expelling anyone that tries." The new voice came from where the last member of their year was sitting. Neville Longbottom looked up from his copy of _Nightshade: The Unholy Blossom_ and said, "He would do it the moment he caught you a foot off the stairs. And I know that whatever he has up there is very dangerous."

Parvati Patil leaned forward, intrigued. "How?"

"Because the headmaster never exaggerates." With that he closed his book and went upstairs to get ready for bed.

"Don't make Gryffindor suffer because you want to be stupid." Hermione turned and disappeared up the stairs to the girl dorms.

* * *

><p>Four hours later Ron roused Seamus and Dean from sleep. Bleary eyed and yawning, the three boys dressed and made their way down into an empty common room.<p>

"Are you sure about this Ron?" Seamus asked.

"Of course. I snagged my brother's prefect patrol schedule. All of the prefects should've been back in their beds an hour ago, so we're all clear." Together they slowly opened the Fat Lady's portrait that guarded the entrance to the common room and started the long walk down to the third floor.

Seamus broke the silence. "What do you think we're going to find when we get there?"

"I don't know, maybe a dragon or a griffin?"

"Whatever it is has to be really dangerous or Dumbledore wouldn't have said that it was dangerous."

"Whatever it is has to be really cool. I know no one has been able to make it. The prefects have been catching people out at night, so no one has made it close. That's why Percy's schedule is going to help so much." They were making their way down the last corridor between them and the stairwell that led to the third floor.

"Ok be quiet. We're almost there and we don't want to be caught now," Ron whispered to the two behind him. They were just about halfway to the stairs when Seamus, who was last in line, felt a hand on his shoulder causing him to shout in surprise.

Ron whipped around, finger on his lips when he saw the scariest sight he had ever seen and his heart almost stopped.

Standing behind Seamus, wearing all black so that nothing but his face was visible, was Professor Snape.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Out of bed after curfew and just where were you heading?" His eyes glinted with malicious glee. "We are awfully close to the forbidden corridor, aren't we? It seems someone is going to be expelled tonight. Three someones."

The three boys had to cover their eyes when a bright light erupted from Snape's wand, illuminating the area in a harsh glow. "The three of you are coming with me to the Headmaster's office. Now!" He turned and moved through the school swiftly, the boys struggling to keep up in their slippers.

Though it was on the other side of the school, to the Gryffindors, the walk to the headmaster's office seemed to happen instantly. Before any of them had time to feel fear, they were stepping past a gargoyle and onto a set of moving stairs. It was only once they heard the venerable man's voice calling for them to enter that they understood what was about to happen.

Seamus paled, Dean trembled and Ron was catatonic. The thought of meeting his mother after being expelled from Hogwarts raced through his mind.

"What can I do for you Severus? Oh," Dumbledore was surprised when he noticed three students following in his wake, "and may I ask what has happened?" His eyes found Snape again.

"I happened upon these three while they were gallivanting through the castle just a few minutes ago. They seemed to be heading to the third floor corridor." Those words were enough to make Dumbledore's eyes harden when he turned to face them.

"Do you have anything to say for yourselves?" The words cut through them like ice. They could feel their fates being sealed before Seamus blurted out.

"We weren't going to the corridor!" Dean and Ron both snapped their necks to look at the young Irish boy who continued on, ignoring the gobsmacked looks directed at him. "We weren't going to the corridor. We just wanted to see what the school was like at night. We don't want to be expelled," he said the last sentence while holding back a sob.

Dumbledore turned back to his potions professor. "Where did you find them, Professor Snape?"

Snape floundered. "They were walking down the Transfiguration corridor. That leads to the only stairwell that has access to the third floor. It makes sense."

"Or they could have been heading to the stairwell that leads to the Great Hall. We will never know for sure." That wasn't good enough for the pale man seething in front of him.

"We can find out right now." Snape's eyes were manic when he turned to face Ron.

"No!" The bass in the older man's voice made the young lions take a step back. Snape froze at the anger and power in Dumbledore's voice. "I will not have my students treated in that way. We will _never _know for sure." The way he stressed the word _never_ made Snape clench his fists.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Severus. Good night." Understanding the clear dismissal, Snape turned and stalked through the open door, making sure to slam it shut on his way out. Dumbledore didn't take his eyes off of his students, who were now looking relieved.

"Tonight you have shown an inability to follow instructions, severe disregard for the rules, and an astounding immaturity for your age. I and the rest of the staff take special care to make sure none of our students venture down that way during the day and yet you take it upon yourselves to explore the school in the hours before dawn. It is lucky that Professor Snape found you because if he had waited just another moment you would have either lost your lives or been expelled and I am sure you want neither of those things." Dumbledore stopped speaking to take off his glasses and rub the bridge of his nose.

"That will be a week's detention with Mr. Filch. He was speaking to me earlier about needing help polishing the suits of armor on the fifth floor. Also, fifty points from Gryffindor, for each of you." He watched their faces hit the floor without a hint of sympathy. "If anyone catches you nearing that stairwell again, day or night, for any purpose, that will be the last thing you do as Hogwarts students. One more step out of line and I will have to contact your parents immediately, understood?" He watched Ron's face pale as they nodded their heads vehemently.

"As quickly as you can, head back to Gryffindor Tower and go to sleep. Good night."

_**October 31 1991 Just Before Dinner  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

It had been a long month for Ron Weasley and his friends. After having been caught out of bounds during the night and losing one hundred and fifty points in a single swoop, they instantly became the most popular students in three of the houses while the situation on Gryffindor quickly deteriorated.

After hearing the story from a gleeful Snape, Professor McGonagall deducted a further fifty points for "sheer stupidity." The glares focused on the three students didn't bother Ron half as much as the near constant lectures he was subjected to by Hermione.

On the way to the Halloween Feast Hermione managed to catch up with him once again.

"If you had just listened to me than none of this would have happened. Now we have lost _two hundred points_ and you have a week of detention. What good came out of visiting the corridor? You're lucky you were caught before you made it there or you would have been expelled."

Ron listened to the rant, his face becoming redder and redder. He was already angry that his brother had yelled at him the next morning after hearing the story and embarrassed that he had received a howler from his mom during dinner just days after it happened. The delivery was timed perfectly for everyone in the Great Hall to hear Mrs. Weasley shout and rant about her youngest son. There in the middle of the corridor he snapped.

"Will you just shut it already?" Ron screamed. Hermione took a step back, taken aback by the sudden outburst. "It was probably you that told on us. Does that make you feel better? Running to the teacher so you can feel like you're better than us?"

Hermione closed her mouth with a snap, tears visible in her eyes.

Gaining momentum, Ron continued. "This is why no one talks to you. They can't stand you. You're always acting like you are better than everyone else but you're not. Do you even know if you have any friends?" That last statement caused Hermione to turn around and run back to the tower, barely holding back her sobs.

Ron was smiling to his friends, accepting the congratulations sent his way for putting the bookworm in her place when someone shoved him in the back. The anger rearing its head again he turned and was confused to find that it was Neville standing behind him, scowling.

"What are you shoving me for?"

"You didn't need to say that to her. She was right. You could've gotten hurt or expelled but you got lucky."

"She should mind her own business. We didn't do anything to her." Ron smirked and looked at his friends. "It's not my fault she has a stick up her butt." That made Dean and Seamus break out in laughter.

Neville drew his wand, followed quickly by Ron, Dean and Seamus. "What are you gonna do? It's three against one and you're just a bookworm like her. You probably don't even know what to do with your wand," Ron taunted.

"They have very interesting things in books. Like this-" Neville twirled his wand and said, "_Locomotor Mortis."_ Instantly, Dean's legs snapped together and he had to drop his wand to catch himself before he fell face first into the stone floor. Another twirl of his wand and Seamus was pulling himself towards the wall, trying to right himself.

Ron and Neville faced off. A calm anger facing off with a smugness that was slowly turning to fear. Neville pointed his wand at Ron. "This is something that you deserve." He spun his wand and added a jab, saying the words, _"Petrificus Totalus."_ Ron's limbs snapped together and the force was so jarring it pushed him forward, causing him to crash face first into the floor with a loud crunch.

"Ron!" Dean, being the closest to him, rolled Ron over. The color of the blood flowing from his nose was only matched by the dark shade of red that now adorned his face. Unable to open his mouth to scream in pain, Ron settled for a high pitched moan that came from behind his locked jaw.

Neville pushed Dean back against the wall in order to come face to face with Ron. He stared down at the moaning red head. Nostrils flared, Neville spoke quietly. "You're going to leave her alone now right? You're not going to cause her any more problems?" The tone he used made it clear that he was asking rhetorical questions. Neville stood up and quickly made his way down the corridor Hermione had disappeared down.

Dean and Seamus spent the next five minutes trying to get on their feet long enough to find enough leverage to pull Ron up to his. Their progress was undone when they were knocked over by a pair of passersby.

Fred and George looked down at the trio of first years and came to a conclusion. With a shake of their head they stepped over their brother and continued on their way to the feast. Halfway down the hall Fred turned to George and said, "How long do you think they'll be stuck there?"

"I don't know. McGonagall never comes to the feast. Maybe she'll find them and set them straight," George said, causing his twin to chuckle.

* * *

><p>While everyone was making their way to the feast, Harry was wandering the dungeons. In the few months he had attended Hogwarts, he had begun to appreciate the traditions that the magical world kept alive. And the annual celebration of their magic wielding heritage was one such tradition.<p>

But it wasn't just their heritage that the small population of witches and wizards celebrated on Halloween. All across the country people were celebrating the fall of one of the most feared Dark Lords in history. They were celebrating the night that little Harry Potter defeated Lord Voldemort, the night James and Lily Potter died.

Harry had long ago made the connection between his nightmares and what happened that night in Godric's Hollow which made this night that much harder to get through. He avoided the feast because he didn't feel like celebrating the night that his family was torn apart. So he had taken to examining the portraits, eyes darting to and fro, mind unable to process what he was seeing.

Although he had started the school year with a positive mind set, the friendships he imagined never materialized. All attempts at conversation with others in his house were answered with one word responses. And even that progress had stopped once the news about him having muggle parents made it around the house. It wasn't enough to upset him because he was used to feeling like he was being stared at. It was always either him being seen as the son of one of the wealthiest men on earth or to those in the League, the son of Batman.

His somber thoughts were interrupted by a condescending, "Are you following me, Wayne?"

Unbeknownst to him at the time, there was someone else that wasn't attending the Halloween feast. Occupying the same corridor where he was lost in thought was Daphne Greengrass.

He looked up and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Greengrass. I devoted my entire night to sneaking around the school behind you." He would later swear that he had seen a smirk on her face before she turned back to what she was doing.

Looking up at the portrait, she spoke with the tone of someone that was just interrupted by a messy dog. "I suppose we will have to speak some other time, Sir Galahad. It seems I can't get a moments peace." The figure in the painting laughed and bowed low.

"Until the morrow, Lady Daphne." He rode out of the frame on a shiny white horse, leaving a confused Harry and blushing Daphne behind.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"That was none of your business," Daphne shot back. Just as Harry was about to respond with a sarcastic retort, they were interrupted by a loud grunt and the shuffling of heavy feet.

Straight down the hall, in the direction he had just come from, was the silhouette of the largest person Harry had ever seen. Standing at just over ten feet tall, the outline could have easily dwarfed Hagrid. It lumbered closer, dragging what seemed to be a tree trunk behind it.

"Is that a giant?" Harry asked Daphne. Looking away from the monstrous visage, he could see that her face had paled.

"No, that's a troll. We have to get out of here." She started to walk quickly down the hall, away from the lumbering beast, when she realized that she was alone.

Harry had stayed rooted to the spot, oblivious to all danger in the presence of the first magical creature he had ever seen. He was shaken from his observations when a hand closed around his wrist. "We need to go. That thing will kill us if it has the chance." Using her grip, she pulled him down the corridor. They walked quietly at first, hoping to get away unnoticed but that quickly changed when they heard a loud roar and the sound of thudding feet.

"We need to get to the stairs." Harry had taken the lead, using Daphne's tight grip on his hand as a means to pull her along. Up ahead, they could see steps leading away from the dungeons and watched, horrified, as they shifted away to a corridor on the other side of the stairwell.

Daphne stopped. "No, no, no, no. No! We can't be stuck here," she pleaded. There was no way to get to the stairs from their side of the hall. Their only chance of escape lay in the stairwell behind the rapidly approaching troll. Harry looked back and shoved Daphne towards the wall just in time to avoid a club that smashed into the spot they just vacated.

When the troll pulled back, the club left an indent large enough for a tall man to sit comfortably in. Seeing an opening, Daphne tried to make a break for it while hugging the wall, in order to get to past the troll. But she came face to face with the troll's large hand as it spread its arms wide in order to catch its prey. She shrieked and stumbled back.

"Use your wand!" Harry yelled, pulling his from his sleeve. He jabbed it at the troll and yelled, "_Impedimenta!"_

The troll took a step back as if it had taken a blow to the chest. Confused, it cocked its club back and aimed it at the one attacking back. With a roar it swung it horizontally, hoping to smash Harry against the wall. Harry dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the club, and rolled to his feet. He looked over to Daphne and screamed, "GO!"

Coming to her senses, she dashed through the opening caused by the troll's vicious attack on Harry. She made it halfway down the hall before she turned around and watched as Harry ducked and weaved around the slow but deadly lunges. Although he was unharmed, she could see that with each dodge he was moving further and further back. He was steps away from coming dangerously close to the edge that led to a deep drop down the unattended stairwell.

Daphne drew her wand and took a deep breath. Aiming at the troll's club, she put it through a swish and flick and said, _"Wingardium Leviosa!" _The club twitched and began to rise before the troll tightened its grip and slammed it back down to the floor. It roared and, in desperation, swung wildly, barely missing Harry's head.

"You need something stronger." Harry screamed before he had to jump back to avoid a meaty fist. "Daphne!"

Daphne remembered what Harry had done in order to buy her time to get out of danger. With a jab of her wand, she screamed, _"Impedimenta!" _Her spell didn't have quite the same effect but it saved his life. The spell connected with the troll's arm mid-swing, causing it miss Harry's unprotected left side and embed itself in the wall to his right.

Taking his chance he darted past and regrouped with Daphne. "We need to tell a teacher."

Just as they turned to make a break for it, the troll ripped its club from the wall, destroying the frame Sir Galahad occupied and knocking over a suit of armor. Weapon back in hand, it lunged for their unprotected backs.

"_Arresto Momentum!"_ The club slowed from a speedy whistle to a slow grind. Harry and Daphne turned, their hearts beating in their throats, to see Professor McGonagall, face red and chest heaving.

They rushed behind her and watched until she yelled, "GO!" Harry grabbed Daphne by the hand and pulled her up the stairs and towards the Great Hall.

She stepped back to put more room between herself and the troll. Feeling the magic of the spell wane, she released it and watched as its lunge was met with nothing but air. Readying her wand, she banished the troll's foot back, making it fall face first on the floor. Minerva was sure that someone should've heard the loud noises they were making.

The troll pulled itself up by leaning on its club just. Minerva aimed her wand at the wooden weapon and said, _"Reducto," _destroying the club. It caused the troll to lose its balance and fall again_. _

All of a sudden she became light headed. Stumbling back, she barely had the presence of mind to keep her eyes locked on her opponent. The world spun and her stomach rebelled, allowing the troll a chance to get back on its feet. The troll took advantage of her distress and looked around for something else to use as a weapon. Underneath the suit of armor that now lay strewn across the floor was a stone pedestal. Gripping it in its hand like a softball, the troll moved to throw it until a male voice shouted, _"Diffindo!" _The hex severed the hand off at the wrist.

Minerva looked up from where she rested against the wall to see Albus Dumbledore with his wand out, a fierce look on his face. Behind him stood Hagrid and a panting Flitwick.

"Are you ok Professor?" Dumbledore lowered his wand and turned to Minerva, also wanting to hear the answer to Hagrid's question.

"Yes. I am fine." She stood up and brushed herself off. Taking a step forward, she stumbled and had to be supported by Professor Flitwick.

"How did it get here?" The diminutive man squeaked.

"I do not know. I came upon this thing on my way to the kitchen. I tried to subdue it after it turned to attack me but I became lightheaded." She steadied herself and was able to walk unaided. Dumbledore took the opportunity to speak.

"Professor Flitwick, please bind its arm and put it into an enchanted sleep. After that is done I want you to group all the students in the Great Hall and begin attendance to make sure they are all accounted for." The small man nodded and set to work on making sure the beast would survive.

"Hagrid, I want you to secure the Entrance Hall and be ready to scour the school. This might not have been the only one to make it in. I will escort Professor McGonagall back to her quarters and join you when I am done."

"O' course, Professor." The giant man stomped up the stairs leaving Minerva in the headmaster's care. Dumbledore offered his arm as support but she ignored it and started the walk back to her quarters.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Dumbledore spoke. "What you did was very dangerous, Minerva. You could have easily been killed tonight."

Minerva rolled her eyes and started walking faster. Easily keeping pace with the octogenarian, Dumbledore continued. "Taking on a fully grown mountain troll is one thing but to take on one while intoxicated…" He trailed off as she slowed to stop. "What if you had failed? What if a student had been the one to find you?" He placed a hand on her arm.

Dumbledore could see he was making headway. "I understand what tonight means-"

She ripped her arm away and said, "Good night, Headmaster."

_**November 8 1991 Lunchtime  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

The first year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs had just finished another exciting Charms class. Just before he dismissed them for lunch, Professor Flitwick spoke, "Mr. Longbottom, a moment please?" Flitwick waited for the room to begin emptying before saying, "The headmaster would like to speak to you before you head down to lunch. The password is academia. I trust you know where his office is?"

Neville nodded and began packing away his books. Making his way to Professor Dumbledore's office he thought about the only thing that could've warranted seeing the headmaster personally.

Neville knew he had lost his head on Halloween, that he shouldn't have fought his dorm mates and would eventually have to suffer the consequences for it. But oddly enough, he didn't mind.

"Enter. Ah, Neville. Thank you for coming to see me."

"Hello Professor."

"How have your classes been?"

"Great sir. I've been learning a lot." Dumbledore nodded and steepled his fingers on the desk in front of his face.

He looked over the top of his glasses and said, "I hear you have had a few interesting conversations with your housemates."

Neville nodded. Through the many conversations he had had with the headmaster over the years, Neville was used to the open ended statements the man employed. It never bothered him as much as others because he always felt that Dumbledore was never forcing him to answer, just allowing him to collect his thoughts.

"Yes sir. We have had a few disagreements." This made Dumbledore chuckle.

"Yes, a few. Misters Thomas and Finnegan had to escort Mister Weasley, to the Hospital Wing on Halloween. They both had their legs stuck together and Mister Weasley had suffered a broken nose and was fully petrified. It was quite remarkable that they made it there in their condition. I am sorry, I digress. After healing them, she was told a story about tripping down the stairs. It was not until this morning that I was informed by Percy Weasley, a prefect of your house, that his youngest brother and his friends were the subject of an assault." Dumbledore paused.

Neville nodded, having expected another open ended statement.

"Is there anything you would like to say?" Dumbledore pushed his glasses back up his nose.

Neville shook his head. "No? In that case I also have to inform you that I had a very enlightening chat with Miss Granger. She came to me just after Prefect Weasley did in fact and she relayed to me the entirety of the situation. I cannot impress upon you enough the fact that we do not solve problems here that way. I am assigning you a week's worth of detention."

Neville nodded and ducked his head. The shame he felt was not over the fight but the fact that he had let the headmaster down.

"I want you to know Neville that what you did was noble but how you did it showed you still have a way to go."

"Yes sir. It won't happen again."

"Thank you Neville. You begin your detentions with Professor Sprout tonight. I believe she said that her Mandrakes have fully matured and that it is time to sow them. You are dismissed Neville, have a good day."

* * *

><p>Dozens of different rumors flew around about the reason for the school wide lockdown. Though no one knew first-hand what the cause of it was, the lack of such a small thing like facts didn't stop the rumor mill from running full tilt. Every possible scenario from a marauding colony of centaurs to the highly ridiculous story of Professor McGonagall facing off with a troll in single combat made its way through the school.<p>

It was the hot topic in three of the four houses. Slytherin, however, had its own little scandal to gossip about.

While most of the students were safely secured in the Great Hall, having their attendance taken by their prefects, it became clear that Wayne and Greengrass were missing. And as children, nearly everyone in the house began thinking promiscuous thoughts. Finding the two of them safe and sound in the common room only added fuel to the fire.

Although they weren't being affectionate with each other or even sitting on the same side of the room, they were still subjected to jokes and innuendo. As the member of a respected Pureblood family, Daphne received the lion's share of the teasing and insults. "A mudblood? That's who you sully yourself with?" No matter how hard she protested or how vehement her insults of Harry were, she wasn't able to convince anyone that she was not friends with the house pariah. Eventually she gave up and went to bed, Draco's taunts still ringing in her ears.

The first time Harry was able to talk to Daphne was two weeks after their run in with the troll. He managed to catch up with her after a double potions class. Taking his chance as they were the last two leaving, Harry made the first move with, "Snape seems to have calmed down a little, right? He hasn't made any of the Gryffindors nervous in weeks."

Keeping his eyes on her, Harry saw she made no move to speak. "That was pretty scary with the troll, right? If you need to talk to someone about what happened to us, you could talk to me." Daphne rolled her eyes.

Harry was running out of things to say. "We make a pretty good team." He sighed in relief when she stopped and faced him.

"We aren't a team. We aren't anything. When will you take the hint and realize that no one in the house is going to be your friend. I am a pureblood, you're a muggleborn, that puts me above you and I don't fraternize with those who are below me. I don't need to talk to you because nothing happened. And even if something did, I wouldn't talk to you about it."

"We were fighting that troll together. I saved your life," Harry responded.

"And I saved yours so we're even. That means there's nothing for us to talk about. Now leave me alone. I have enough trouble trying to get the rumors to stop without you following me everywhere." Making sure she got her point across she began walking away, leaving Harry standing there, rooted to the spot.

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	11. Back Home

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics.

_**A/N: **_If anyone out there is comfortable with the lingo used in Firefly/Serenity (including the Chinese), please contact me._****_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Back Home<strong>

_**December 5 1991 Noon  
>Smallville High School, Smallville, Kansas<strong>_

"I am so ready to go home and start Christmas vacation already."

The bell had just rung, signaling the start of the lunch period. Kara Kent looked up from her textbook to see one of her new friends drop her book bag and fall into the seat across from her.

Amanda Weller was a tall brunette with deep brown eyes. Also a freshman, they had many of the same classes and had met in English after being paired for an assignment about Shakespeare. Between Kara's bubbly personality and Zatanna's advice they had become good friends.

"It's the first week in December. If you're already tired then I don't know how you're going to make it through the rest of the month." Kara rolled her eyes.

Mandy slumped further into her seat before noticing how absorbed Kara was by her textbook. Spying the cover she read, _Sonnets: The Love Poem_. "What could be so interesting in that book? You looking to be a poet, Kent?" Mandy leaned forward to have a look at what was demanding so much of her friend's attention.

Kara closed her book, quicker than Mandy thought possible. "It's nothing, nothing. Just a book my cousin thought I should read to help my writing. You have no idea what he's like about grammar and sentence structure." She rolled her eyes.

"That's right. Your cousin is a reporter with the Daily Planet. That must be real cool to work in the big city, following Superman around. God, he's so dreamy." Mandy's eyes clouded over. Seeing no end in sight to her friend's daydreaming, Kara cleared her throat.

"Do you have anything planned for the vacation?" Kara asked.

"Yeah. Me and my family are heading to Colorado to go skiing. As a matter of fact, my mom wanted me to invite you. She says girlfriends have to do these types of things while we're young. So what do you say Kent? Want to hang out with me in the mountains and talk to cute boys?"

Kara immediately responded. "Thanks, but no. My friend is coming back from school for Christmas break for the first time since September. I want to meet him when he comes back. Besides, my family just gave me permission to spend the holidays over at his house."

"Ooo a boy, huh? Is this boy cute?"

Kara was not enjoying where the conversation was heading. In an effort to distract her friend, she said, "Don't you want to grab lunch before the period ends?" Mandy looked up, surprised, and took off for the lunch line. Her absence allowed Kara to get back to what she was reading. Opening her book, she easily found the page separated by a lone leaf of parchment, covered top to bottom in a slanted scrawl. She continued the letter from where she had left off.

…_class had brooms for each of us to use. It was amazing but I bet you know what I mean. If I can get Dad to get me one of those, I'll be able to keep up with you when you go flying._

_I've met some people but no one as cool as you. I hope now that Clark's parents have let you go to school that you made some friends. I just hope none of them make you mad, your punch feels like a mule's kick._

_Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you're going to be there when I get off the train in a couple of weeks. I miss you guys so much. I wrote my Dad and he said you're going to celebrate the holidays with us in Gotham. I can't wait. It's going to be so much fun._

_Waiting for Christmas  
>Harry<em>

Kara smiled at the long letter. Her pleasant thoughts were interrupted by a tray being slammed on the table. She looked up to see a harried looking Mandy throw herself down and start shoving food into her mouth.

"Calm down Mandy. The food's not going anywhere."

Her only reply was a muffled, "Dun haf mush ti lef." Kara laughed. She was surprised by how quickly the period had finished when the bell rang. She looked to Mandy with sympathetic eyes when she saw the empty tray in front of her.

Mandy stood up and daintily wiped her mouth. "That wasn't bad. I have History now. Enjoy your free period." Kara waved as her friend rocketed out the door and marveled at how quickly she could eat. Grabbing a pen, she ripped a sheet of paper out of her notebook and started a letter.

_Harry,_

_Of course I'll be there to pick you up. Clark already told me that Bruce can't wait to see you. If it wasn't for Diana I think he would have flown to your school in his work suit and snuck in._

_You wish you could fly like me. You can have any branch you want but nobody flies like a Kryptonian. And don't think you're getting off that easily. You still haven't answered me when I asked you about the troll. Do you mean like trolls under a bridge? You can't just slip that into a letter and not say anything else._

_Well, there hasn't been much to tell you about here. School's ok. I made a couple of friends but none of them get our jokes and it would be too much work to explain it to them. It probably isn't anywhere near as fun as your school. I would love to know how the classes are there. And our other friends are doing well. I'm still not allowed to know what's going on but next year I'll be fifteen and I can join as a part time member. At least that's what Diana said. I mean I can do nearly everything Clark can do and soon I'll be able to see through things. _

_I miss you too. I can't wait for you to show me the magic you've been learning. _

_See you in London  
>Kara<em>

She folded up the letter and stuffed it into her book bag. She hoped Bruce hadn't sent the owl off yet or she would have to wait for Zatanna to get back so she could take it to one of the magical neighborhoods.

Counting down the days until Christmas, she walked out of the lunch room with a smile on her face.

_**December 20 1991 9 AM  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

It was the morning that the students returning home for Christmas caught the Hogwarts Express to London and the school was in chaos.

Just an hour before the train was scheduled to leave students scurried around their common rooms searching for wayward possessions to stuff into their trunks, books to read through before the start of the spring term, and friends to utter last minute goodbyes to. The Gryffindor Common Room was no exception.

Neville sat by the fire, finishing a small handbook about the growth of a Rhodesian Flytrap. Enjoying the time he had by himself while everyone hustled to get their packing done, he didn't notice the person approaching his chair until a shadow fell over the pages of his book. Closing the book he looked up into Hermione Granger's anxious face.

In the weeks following his fight with his roommates, he noticed that Hermione seemed to be close by whenever they left their dorms. First it started with partnering up in classes. She never asked to be assigned together or made conversation beforehand; usually she just sat at his table or in front of his plant in the greenhouse. He didn't mind, quite the opposite in fact. She was always helpful, giving him tips and stopping him from making mistakes. Her advice made it easier for him to grasp ideas and improved his grades.

He looked around uncomfortably as she stood in front of him, staring.

He placed the book on the arm of his chair, the movement pulling Hermione from her thoughts. Blushing at having zoned out, she looked down and said, "I saw that you had signed up to stay at Hogwarts over the break."

"Yeah. I wanted to see what the castle is like during Christmas. So I guess you're going home," he said, nodding his head at her nearby trunk.

"Yes. My parents wanted me to come home and celebrate the holidays with them," she said, looking a little put out at having to leave school. "They just want to spend some quality time with me, make sure I'm eating, the parental checklist."

Neville nodded. "Happy Christmas Hermione." He opened his book to the marked page when Hermione spoke again.

"I didn't do it, you know." She could see the confusion on his face so she elaborated. "I didn't tell anyone that they were going to sneak out after curfew. Even though I didn't think what they were doing was right, I wouldn't go behind their backs and tattle."

"I know Hermione. He was just sore that they cost us so many points. They were looking for someone to blame. No one else thinks that you told a teacher."

"Thanks."

"No need to thank me. Everyone knows-"

"No. Thank you for standing up for me. You told them to stop when you didn't have to and… thank you. Not a lot of people have stood up for me except my parents and I wanted you to know that I really appreciate it."

"You really don't have to but you're welcome." Her next action surprised him.

Hermione stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a hesitant hug. She stepped back, blushing and whispered a, "Happy Christmas," before turning back to her trunk.

* * *

><p>The tension had reached a peak when everyone on the platform heard the whistle signaling the train's approach. Up and down the platform families could be seen jostling for position, hoping to be one of the first to find their children and make their way home.<p>

After having been escorted through the barrier by two official looking men wearing badges, Bruce stood back from the crowds, Diana on his right with Kara standing next to her. Kara bounced on her toes, squealing a little when she heard the train whistle. The manic energy was almost in direct opposition to the way Diana held herself. Face calm, her only tell was the rhythmic squeezing of his hand and the way her breathing sped up once she too heard the train's approach. Once the crowds rushed forward, Diana's hand shot out and grabbed Kara by the shoulder, making sure she didn't bulldoze anyone in her rush to be the first one to the train.

The Hogwarts Express rolled into the station. After just a few moments the students started to get off. Kara searched and searched but she couldn't pick out which head of black hair belonged to her best friend. After the initial rush by the group of families to claim their children, the area around the train cleared and the group watched with interest as students continued to trickle off the train. The crowd started to clear when Bruce spied his son heaving his trunk off the train.

Harry looked up and said cheekily, "Waiting for someone important?"

"HARRY!" Kara leapt forward, barely stopping herself from floating through the air, and wrapped her arms around Harry.

"Kara! Kara ok…Kara…Ease…Up…Kara…Can't…Breathe…Ka…ra…" Diana stepped up and, batting Harry's flailing arms aside, pulled Kara off her almost blue son. After giving him a moment to breathe, she pulled him into a much gentler hug, relishing in the way that his arms wrapped around her waist and squeezed her tight.

Pulling back from the hug Harry looked up and said, "Hi Mom."

Diana looked down "Missed us?"

Harry nodded, a smile on his face. "Yeah."

"Well, we missed you too." She stepped out of the way to let Harry rush to Bruce and slam into his middle. Diana loved the way Harry brought out the caring side in the man she loved.

"Hi Dad."

"All set Harry?" Waiting for his nod, Bruce continued. "Ok then, let's go home."

While Bruce and Diana lifted his trunk, Kara grabbed Harry's arm and marched him back out through the barrier.

_**December 22 1991 Midnight  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

The students had been away for a day now. It was the perfect time to search for a way to undo the protections around the Stone but first he needed sustenance.

His servant's magic was not fulfilling him like it used to. Voldemort knew what that meant. Their shared body was slowly withering. The magic that had once fought him was sluggish and no longer tried to expel him. He knew that his time at Hogwarts was slowly running out. He needed a way to forestall the inevitable and find a way to replenish the magic.

In the dead of night, Quirrell stole away from the castle. The pain seemed to echo from his bones. Each step he took was harder than the last and he knew he wouldn't have made it if he didn't have his master whispering the idea of riches and fame in his mind. There was an easy solution to his problem and it roamed the Forbidden Forest. It was then that Voldemort assumed control of the body; he wasn't willing to let his servant fumble his way through the forest.

Voldemort stalked through the forest. The malevolent energy that pulsed from his host made any other animal steer clear. Most of the sentient beings made sure to stay away as well. Voldemort was on guard, however. He knew that the acromantulas would not venture so far out of their territory but the same could not be said of the centaurs.

'_Arrogant, self-righteous fools.' _During his time as a student, he became well acquainted with the school's more interesting neighbors. He hadn't met any of the spiders until well into his seventh year but the centaurs would take to rebuffing any human that dared venture into their domain. Voldemort knew that as sensitive as the centaurs were to nature they would be able to feel the same aura that the animals did. Never ones to ask questions first, they would attack and in his weak, desperate state Voldemort knew that he would not be able to hold off a herd of centaurs for long.

Then there was a crack of a broken twig and movement in the bushes. Voldemort could feel it. It was close. He followed the signs of disturbed ground and made their way into a clearing.

There in the middle of the field was an entire herd of unicorns.

Prized and potent in magic, unicorns were protected by many laws, both magical and man-made. What Voldemort planned to do tonight would break every last one of them.

Just as he was going to call up his power and begin the chase for one of the powerful creatures, he noticed a golden glint in his peripheral vision. He turned slowly so as not to startle his prey and watched as a baby unicorn meandered up to him.

Curious and only half nervous, the foal slowly trotted up, stopping just a few feet away from him. Lowering its head to sniff the ground, it began to neigh softly before slowly increasing in volume. He could hear it begin to whine, as if smelling something it didn't like. Voldemort watched it carefully, making sure that Quirrell was ready in case it decided to flee and with it the rest of the unicorns.

Movement from the herd told Quirrell that the whining wasn't going unnoticed. He looked back and noticed they were getting riled up. Not taking a chance, he raised his wand and unleashed a high-powered fire spell. The scorching streams of fire forced them to flee deeper into the forest.

Fire consumed the field. Smoke billowed up into the sky. Voldemort readied himself and unleashed a wave of dark energy that blistered Quirell's hand.

The foal reared back, trying to pull away from the stream of dark energy. It struggled valiantly, whining loudly, trying to pull free and join its herd. Voldemort knew he had to finish it quick. Get what he came for and leave before someone or something came to investigate. The smoke was sure to draw the attention of the centaurs if the school's occupants didn't arrive first.

Pointing his wand at the terrified creature he conjured heavy chains around its legs, causing it to fall when it tried to run. He walked up slowly, enjoying the satisfaction of an accomplished mission. He could hear the foal whining and felt the thirst for its life giving sustenance.

Kneeling next to it, he placed one hand on the base of its neck and the other on its snout to keep it from moving its head. Completely in control of the body, Voldemort didn't pay any attention to the disgust that Quirrell's consciousness was giving off and leaned down and sunk his teeth into its neck.

Long after the whining died and the once golden foal had turned ashen grey, Quirrell climbed to his feet, wiped the silver liquid from his lips and stalked back to the castle.

_**December 23 1991 10 AM  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

Harry was panting heavily. Circling his opponent, he wondered if he was quick enough to try flanking. He doubted it but every other approach he had tried resulted in a flurry of hits and a quick flip that resulted in him staring at the ceiling. He had to take his chance.

Racing straight ahead towards a collision, Harry feinted left and ducked low to avoid a grab. Sidestepping to the right he was able to slip past the offhand guard. Taking the only chance he had, he stooped low and grabbed onto the ankle, twisting to gain the leverage needed to bring his opponent to the ground. Harry thought he had the match in the bag until the ankle he was holding twisted further than he was expecting, sending him flying through the air.

Harry heard a gasp from behind him but was too focused on rolling through the fall to pay it any mind. He barely had any time to breathe before he was ducking hits and shirking grabs. Each blow he avoided forced him into another until he wasn't able to duck a grab and was thrown face first to the mat again. This time Harry was unable to break his landing because of the hand forcing his arm behind his back. Unable to take deep breaths with his face mashed against the mat he didn't think twice about complying when he heard a cultured voice speak up from behind him.

"Tap the mat twice if you yield, Master Harry."

Harry's hand slapped the mat twice while a muffled mumbling could be heard from where his face was pushed against the floor. With a laugh, Alfred released the boy's arm and stood up gracefully.

Alfred's smile turned into a frown when he asked, "When was the last time you practiced, Master Harry?"

Harry looked down into his lap, embarrassed. That was answer enough for the old butler.

"You go to that school ten months out of the year. If you were to neglect your practices for that amount of time, how could you hope to further your skills? Let alone think of challenging me." He bent over and helped the boy to his feet.

"I understand that you were becoming acclimatized to being away from home for such a long time but that does not excuse you from the promises you have made. Is that understood?" Harry nodded.

"Very well, we are done for the day. Tomorrow we will work through the forms and see what needs to be corrected after the months of neglect. And hopefully devise some way for you to continue once you go back to school." Squeezing Harry's shoulder, Alfred smiled to ease the sting of his words. He exited the room quickly, heading towards the bathroom to refresh and resume his duties.

Harry stood in the center of the mat shaking his head. He knew he had no one to blame but himself about his lack of discipline. The excitement of learning magic eclipsed everything else: being away from home for such a long time, the absence of his best friend and even the fact that he had not managed to make a new friend the entire time he was at Hogwarts. Practicing everyday just fell by the wayside. Those thoughts continued unabated until a giggle from near the door reminded him that he wasn't alone in the room.

Kara had watched the entire sparring session.

Their reunion after he arrived in London had lasted until they both fell asleep on the couch in the hotel suite. They had talked about what Kara had been doing since Harry had been away and what Harry had learned in his time in Scotland. They had both slowly dozed off, Kara with her head on his shoulder, and Harry with his head heavy against the back of the couch, snoring softly. They hadn't even noticed Diana placing a quilt over them.

She was spending the holidays at the manor and had asked to watch his fight with Alfred.

"You know I think Alfred enjoys doing that." Harry looked at the grinning Kara.

Kara laughed. "Of course he does. He just spent the last half hour tossing you around. If I enjoyed it, I know he did." Harry scowled. There was no real heat in it but that statement definitely deserved some sort of reaction. Then he got an idea.

"You wanna see some magic?" Kara clapped gleefully, her eyes wide.

"Wait. Didn't that paper they gave you say you couldn't do magic at home until you're of age?"

Harry waved her off. "That's only for students that are in the United Kingdom. America has different views on secrecy laws." He walked over to the bench Kara was sitting on and retrieved his wand. "So what do you want to see?"

"Surprise me."

"_Wingardium Leviosa."_ Kara yelped when the bench she was sitting started floating shakily into the air. It made it just over a foot off the ground when Harry couldn't keep it up and it slammed back to the ground. The little trick forgotten Kara waited for more.

"Anything else?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"_Incendio."_ Kara fell off her chair when a small spurt of flames shot at her, scorching the wall where she had been sitting.

"Harry!" She dusted herself off when she rose to her feet.

"What? You and I both know that wouldn't have hurt you. Now I have to explain to my dad why there's a burn mark on the wall. Thanks."

"Ohh! I'm gonna get you Harry!" She walked towards him menacingly, her fist raised, when Harry whipped up his wand.

"_Locomotor Mortis!" _Kara was confused until she felt her legs snap together and barely put her hands up in time to catch herself from falling face first on the mat.

"Harry! What did you do?" She rolled over to see him grinning at her.

"Cool, right? I heard some people in another house talking about it."

"This isn't funny Harry. Let me go."

"Yes it is. You have all those Kryptonian powers and I have magic. It's only fair," he said happily but released the magic in the face of her glare. He helped her up and walked her over to the bench. They sat there, content to sit in the comfortable silence when Kara spoke up.

"So you told me all about the classes but not about any of the kids. Meet anyone cool?" Harry smiled sadly.

"Harry? Is someone there giving you a hard time? Want me to have a talk with them?" Kara said. She knew she achieved her goal when he smiled.

Harry looked at her. "Remember when Zatanna said that some wizards look down on people who can't do magic? And they look down on people whose parents can't do magic?"

Kara nodded, remembering the long talk Zatanna had with Harry after he decided he wanted to go to Hogwarts. It seemed like a standard enough talk. What she said was true everywhere. You were always going to find prejudice in the world, no matter where you looked.

"Well I was fortunate enough to be sorted into the house that follows that attitude like it's a law. So I don't talk to anyone in my house because they think I'm beneath them and I don't talk to anyone in the rest of the school because no one likes that house."

"Are you thinking of coming back?" Harry could hear the hope in her voice but he shook his head.

"I want to learn magic and I want to learn it there. It's so cool Kara. It's like the school is alive. It's always moving and you never know what's going to happen next. The teachers are nice and they are some of the best in the world. I just don't know how to talk to those kids."

"Easy. When you go back you just need to remember who you are."

"I know, I know. I'm Harry Potter, the-"

"No, no, not what I meant but how fun would it be if you dropped _that _on them. I mean you're Harrison Wayne, son of Bruce Wayne, son of the Batman. You kept trying with me for a long time before we started being friends."

"But none of that means anything to them."

"No but it should mean something to you. When you go back remember that you are friends with some of the most powerful people in the world. And I'm your best friend, so you must be pretty cool to hang out with."

He smiled and bumped his shoulder into hers.

"Are you going to tell your father about the troll?"

"No! And you won't either. Do you realize how fast he would pull me out of Hogwarts if I told him about that?"

"Fine but you know the rules. You can't get into trouble without me. Otherwise it's no fun."

"Thanks Kara."

"Don't mention it Harry." She wound up and punched Harry on the arm hard enough to send him flying off the bench.

"Kara!"

_**December 24 1991 Late Evening  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

Almost empty of students, Hogwarts was still host to an amazing amount of Christmas cheer. Thanks to the ease with which the staff wielded magic, the spirit of the holidays was on full display. Most of the castle was already asleep, ready to get a jumpstart on the next morning.

Neville couldn't fall asleep and had taken to strolling around the school. His mind was on the fact that this was the first time he wasn't at home during the Christmas season. He had barely managed to convince his grandmother that he should be able to spend the holidays at school. She griped and wrote scathing letters but Dumbledore's intervention made her acquiesce.

Christmas was always a bittersweet day for him. Every year he would dress up nicely and accompany his grandmother to visit his parents at St. Mungos. He was happy that for one day a year he could pretend he was part of a happy family. Then the visit would end and Neville would watch as nurses escorted his parents back to their beds, absentmindedly agreeing with their incoherent mumblings. That was when the day became just bitter.

Not paying attention to where he was walking he found himself in front of the gargoyle that led to the headmaster's office. He decided since he was already there that he would see if the headmaster was still awake.

"Wisdom." The gargoyle stepped aside and allowed Neville to enter the rotating staircase. Having doubts about whether the aged professor was even awake, he knocked softly on the door. Neville heard shuffling then a raspy voice saying, "Enter."

Standing in the middle of the room was Albus Dumbledore. He was standing in front of a large object draped with a heavy curtain. Neville watched as the headmaster stowed away his traveling cloak, brushing the snow from his beard. Neville noticed the bags around his eyes and the handkerchief clutched in his hand. He wondered what might be under the curtain that upset the headmaster so much but he was surprised when the voice that greeted him was jovial.

"Good evening, Neville."

"Good evening, Professor."

"You are up late," Dumbledore said with a smile. Walking around his desk he waved a hand at the opposite chair in invitation.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep. I was walking around and ended up here. I didn't think you would be u-" Neville was cut off when a head appeared in Dumbledore's fireplace.

"Good evening, Albus. Oh hello young man, Happy Christmas Eve. I do hope you're not in trouble so close to Christmas," Amos Diggory said. "Albus I was hoping to speak with you for a moment on a private matter."

"How about we take this conversation to the fireplace in my study? Neville please make yourself comfortable." Dumbledore waved his wand and a tray with cookies and a mug of hot chocolate appeared. "I will be right back."

The professor left the room after the face in the fire disappeared. Neville wrapped his hand around the mug and enjoyed the warmth that filled him after taking a sip. The headmaster's absence afforded him the time to look around the office. Neville had visited the office many times before, both during his time as a student and when he was younger. He knew about Fawkes and the strange trinkets that littered the tables but his attention was drawn to the far wall where the cloth fluttered around the object.

Unable to resist the temptation, Neville lifted up the curtain to sneak a peek at what was covered only to step back in fright, dropping the mug with a _crash_.

Standing in front of him was a full length mirror but that wasn't what scared him. Neville was alone in the office, eyes wide and mouth trembling. His reflection was smiling a full tooth smile, surrounded by his grandmother and two people that he had only seen in photographs. On either side of him, grinning as well, were Frank and Alice Longbottom. They didn't have the look they now carried from being tortured until their sanity fled, but looked as they had before, young and fit.

Neville stared until the headmaster's voice startled him out of his trance. "Amazing, isn't it?"

"Professor, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked. I'm sorry," Neville said nervously.

"It is quite alright Neville. Curiosity is a burden to us all." Dumbledore walked up behind Neville and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"What is this?" Neville asked.

"This is the Mirror of Erised, a very peculiar artifact that I uncovered in the Middle East during my youth."

"What does it do?"

"Have you not figured that out Neville?" Dumbledore's words forced Neville's eyes away from the image on the glass.

"It…it shows what I want," Neville said softly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

"Yes, the mirror has unique enchantments that show the user what they want most in the world. It is a great tool for self-discovery but it can also be a siren for those that do not guard against its power." Dumbledore reached out and pulled the curtain back over the mirror.

Neville nodded. "I can see that. If I could sit around and see my family all day I don't know if I would want to move," he whispered, the statement sounding as if it were a secret.

He turned back to Dumbledore and asked, "What do you see, Professor?"

Dumbledore looked Neville in the eye and said, "Forgiveness," before walking back to his desk.

_**December 25 1991 Early Morning  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

Christmas morning in Gotham started very differently.

Harry slept peacefully in his bed, enjoying the privacy of his room and the calming effect it always had on him. Then he felt a something brush the side of his face. After rubbing his cheek he turned on his side when he felt something rub on his neck. Growling and half asleep, he pushed whatever was flying above him away when he heard a giggle.

"Kara…not now, it's too early," Harry said sleepily.

Kara giggled again. She was hovering a foot over him, using her hair to bother him in his sleep. Not being able to take the wait, she started pulling back his eyelids, trying to force him awake.

"Harry, it's Christmas morning. That means there are presents waiting under the tree. You have to get up." She stopped playing with his eyes and started poking his face.

"Fine, fine. I'm up, I'm up." Harry sat up and bumped his head into Kara's. "Ow! Do you have to be so close?" He rubbed his head angrily.

Kara laughed and dropped down with a crash on top of him. "I was up there for fifteen minutes before you woke up. I was getting desperate." She pushed off of him and climbed out of the bed. "Alfred's already awake so get up and wake up your parents. I want my presents."

* * *

><p>After washing up, it had only taken a few minutes to rouse his parents. Diana helped him wake Bruce because she was as excited as the kids. It was their first Christmas together as a family.<p>

After a big breakfast that Alfred insisted on cooking, they were gathered around the tree to pass presents out. Harry walked away with a greater selection of magical books courtesy of his parents who had Zatanna pick them up at Edwards Square, Gotham City's own small magical shopping district. Kara gave him a picture of the two of them sitting together under a tree on the grounds, something he knew was going to go back to Scotland with him.

Harry made sure he was paying attention when everyone opened his presents. He gave Alfred a book entitled _The Magical History of Britain_. Harry said that he had already read it and that Englishmen should be proud of their history, something that made Alfred smile. To his mom and dad, he gave a wizarding photo of him trying out new spells. Diana enjoyed the way it looped back on itself and commented on the determined expression that he inherited from his father.

Harry pulled out a box and passed it to Kara. "Kara, I said I was going to get you the best Christmas present ever. Well, this is something very rare even in the magical world." She tore through the wrapping and opened the box _ohhed_ and _ahhed_ over the extremely exotic looking flower inside.

"That's a Moonbeam blossom. It doesn't need any water or sunlight. It can survive off of moonlight alone, that's how it got its name. All you have to do is make sure that it can see the moon every night and it will last for years. You can't show it to anyone though. Muggles aren't supposed to know that it exists outside of fairytales." Harry raced through his explanation, the nervous look never leaving his face. He searched her face, looking for any indication of whether she liked the gift or not.

"Harry," Kara said breathlessly. She put the flower on the ground, not noticing Harry's face fall and lunged at him. She knocked him flat in the couch and held onto him in a tight hug. "I love it! I love it!" Her excitement eventually died down and she let go of his ribs. They both sat up and Harry was about to thank Diana for the idea when a loud buzzing sound filled the room.

Bruce and Diana each checked their wrist and sprang from the couch. Bruce looked to Alfred and said, "We have to go. Make sure they stay indoors until we get back." Ignoring the cries of displeasure from the two on the couch, he walked to the control panel on the wall and entered his personal code to activate all security monitors on the estate.

Bruce nodded to Diana, telling her to get the Batwing prepared for takeoff, and turned back to the two on the couch. "The league is mobilizing against a very serious threat. I don't know what is going on or where it is but I want you to stay close to Alfred and do everything he tells you to." He focused on Kara especially. "You want to join the league so think of this as a test. I want to see if you can obey orders."

Kara nodded and watched as Bruce raced down the hall to his study. It was a few minutes before they all heard the roar of a jet's engines.

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	12. Apple Doesn't Fall Far from the Trees

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics.

A/N: The chapter took longer than others to complete because both my beta and I have busy lives outside of this. Don't worry the story isn't going anywhere.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: The Apple Doesn't Fall Far from the Trees<strong>

_**December 25 1991 Morning  
>Outskirts of Vatra Dornei, Carpathian Mountains, Romania<strong>_

Outside of Vatra Dornei, in the shadow of the Carpathian Mountains, stood a long abandoned castle, a remnant from the time when a lord ruled the land. It had recently begun to show signs of habitation – smoke coming from the chimneys, trucks coming and going, strange people buying supplies in town. A week after the first tendril of smoke was spotted the earth began to shake.

Record-breaking tremors were noticed and pre-emptive measures were taken to secure the safety of the surrounding inhabitants. The Justice League was called in to help.

Having drawn the short straw Superman was on Christmas duty, so it fell on him to respond to the request. He quickly made his way to the source of the disturbances, the epicenter of which was the castle's courtyard, when he was hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion. As he plummeted from the sky he saw adits that had been driven into the hillsides around the castle. Unable to arrest his fall he slammed painfully into the ground, crushing his distress beacon a bare second after he'd activated it, signaling his need for backup.

* * *

><p><em>BOOM!<em>

A large explosion detonated over the castle, knocking Wonder Woman out of the sky. She landed with a loud crash and struggled out of the resulting crater. She had barely gotten to her feet when she was swarmed.

"Wonder Woman behind you!" Superman shouted.

Diana turned in time to catch the arm of one of the LuthorCorp drones and keep it from sticking a two-foot long blade into her back. Still holding onto its arm, she grabbed its head and ripped the robot apart with a quick tug.

The rest of the robots went down quickly under Wonder Woman's focused assault. After reducing the last robot to scrap, she regrouped with her fallen teammate.

"Kryptonite!" Superman gasped out. "They were mining Kryptonite. It has to be all over for it to be so bad."

Diana could tell from his shallow breathing and pale face that it was a trial for the Man of Steel to stay conscious. Protocol demanded that she evacuate him but they, as a group, had agreed that retreating wasn't the right thing to do. Despite having his strength sapped Superman could still provide cover with his heat vision.

Further conversation was interrupted by their communicators activating. "Batman to Wonder Woman."

Diana smiled as the deep raspy timbre, so unlike the smooth voice of her boyfriend, sounded in her ear. "Wonder Woman here. Go ahead Batman."

"I've disabled most of the internal security. The drones' commands are coming from the inner office at the bottom of the facility. I won't be able to shut them down until I can infiltrate it. If you can handle the situation up there, I will continue on."

Diana looked back to Superman, who nodded.

"I can handle it Wonder Woman. We need to finish the mission."

"Do it Batman."

"The entire room seems to be lined with layers of lead paint and metal. It looks like it has been Kryptonian proofed. It may interfere with my ability to report back. I will have to go silent for this," Batman responded.

Diana sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Seeing no other choice she said, "Make it quick."

"As you command Princess." Then the line went silent.

Diana turned back to Superman, whose breathing had become even shallower, and tried to make him as comfortable as she could. "It's almost over Kal. We'll take you right to the Watchtower infirmary once it's done," she promised.

"Don't worry about me. Right as rain." The smile dropped from his face and was replaced by a look of bewilderment. "I hear something in the ground. It sounds like drill." He barely finished speaking when the ground erupted in a shower of dirt and rocks forty yards away.

Dozens and dozens of robots pulled free from the earth, their numbers growing by the second.

Diana watched as they spread out, taking in their surroundings. She knew that she needed to keep their attention away from the ailing Superman and the vulnerable town. Wonder Woman hurled herself at the robots, a wordless war cry filling the air.

She attacked with a single-minded determination, fighting with the ferocity of a dozen Amazons. Blades and bullets were shattered or deflected by her bracelets. Heat washed over her as Superman guarded her back. And robots fell by the dozen before her but the assault kept coming.

Her breathing became more ragged and her legs grew heavier the longer the fight went on. The bursts of heat disappeared as Superman succumbed to the Kryptonite and blacked out. Seeking a more defensible position Diana grabbed Superman and dragged him into the sky. She landed near the castle, dropping Superman against a wall.

She breathed heavily while the robots, clearly not the most sophisticated models, reacquired her. _'Athena, just a little more strength,'_ she thought as the robots advanced. Before they could get within arm's length the robots froze, their systems robbed of power.

"All clear. Exiting base with the target," Batman said.

Diana fell to one knee, her limbs trembling with exhaustion. "Understood Batman. Hurry up, Superman needs to get out of here."

"Coming out now." Batman stepped out of the open castle doors, dragging a bruised and bound Lex Luthor behind him.

_**January 3 1992 10:45 AM  
>Platform 9 ¾, Kings Cross Station, London, England<strong>_

With Kara scheduled to start school again on the same day that Harry was to board the Express only Bruce and Diana went with him to London. Harry said his goodbyes to his parents before boarding the train in search of a cabin.

'_Remember Harry, best friends.' _That statement echoed in his mind and he could remember the fun he had back home, with his family. Harry was determined not to let the nasty whispers and spiteful glares bother him, the vacation had reminded him that there were people out there who cared about him.

The cold shoulder couldn't stop the warmth Harry found in the memories of a spectacular Christmas but he wasn't surprised when he heard his least favorite voice.

"You're back, Wayne? I was sure that you had taken the hint that you don't belong here and had stayed with those worthless muggles you call parents." Draco looked around to make sure he had the support of his followers and said, "Shame, I was actually looking forward to enjoying this year. I suppose that won't happen with you around." Draco glanced around, grinning at the laughs he received.

Harry smiled, confusing Draco. "You know Malfoy, I was hoping I'd run into you. I've been thinking about our relationship," he ignored the blonde boy's snort and continued, "and I decided that we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot and I wanted to do it over."

Malfoy's lip curled in disgust. He could see that they had attracted an audience. The students ranged from first year to seventh, every house was represented. "There's nothing that you can say to change my mind about you. You are trash and you're only two steps above the nasty beasts they tell us about at school." His grin faded quickly as he looked Wayne in the eyes.

At first Draco thought it was the light hitting Harry's eyes, making them appear to be a brighter green than usual, until the comment about his parents and they started to pulse. Draco didn't think twice about pulling out his wand and stepping back when Harry started to close the distance between them.

Harry smiled, not fully understanding the boy's fear but he was happy to use it to make a point anyway. "Oh, there's no need for that Draco," Harry said as he sidestepped a sloppy petrifying hex and grabbed Draco's wrist. "I wanted to start the year on a different foot by telling you that I'm done listening to your rubbish."

Everyone looked on as the two waged a silent battle over Draco's arm. Nearly shaking with the effort of trying to pull his arm out of Harry's grasp, Draco said, "When my father hears about this-"

Harry's jaw clenched, the green light in his eyes growing brighter. "Yes. I knew I forgot something. You want to talk about fathers? Let's talk about fathers. You talk about the Malfoy's like I should know who you are. From the way you cry about your father, I'm guessing that he is a very important person around here but the thing you don't realize is I've never heard of him. He's the top dog of a society that has, what, seven or eight thousand people in it?"

"Eight thousand, four hundred and twenty two people, based on the last…wizarding…census…" Hermione quietly trailed off at the looks of exasperation aimed at her.

Harry barked a laugh. "He's the most elite of a society with the population of a reasonably sized town? What kind of power is that?"

Draco purpled in rage. "You wish your family had as noble tradition as mine. Your father is probably some sort of solicitor or shopkeeper, nothing I need to be bothered with."

"My father's name is Bruce Wayne." This announcement was met with gasps. The bushy haired girl's eyes were wide and her mouth formed a perfect "O" in surprise.

"You mean Bruce Wayne, as in Wayne Enterprises?" Dean Thomas asked from behind Harry.

"What are you talking about Dean?" Ron turned to his roommate.

Hermione spoke up, "Bruce Wayne is the head of Wayne Enterprises, the largest private company around. It deals in everything from medicine to satellites. He's ranked as one of the top five richest men in the _world_. You would have to go to the most remote part of the world to find someone that didn't know his name or, apparently, be a wizard."

"I didn't ask for your commentary you stupid mudblood!" Draco turned to Hermione as everyone gasped.

The light in Harry's eyes continued to pulse. Draco stared into them and watched as the pulsing encompassed not just his green irises but the entire eye. They glowed an unearthly light, making Draco pull harder on the hand that was being held captive.

"Like I said Draco, I am getting tired of you. I've tried ignoring you but you obviously don't get the hint so I'll make it clear. Stay away from me."

"Or what?" Draco sneered.

"Or I'll make you stay away from me." The light flashed one last time before Harry's eyes cleared. He released Draco's wrist and stepped back, making sure to stay aware of his surroundings. He had seen his fellow Slytherins attack someone from behind too many times.

A seventh year prefect coming up the corridor interrupted the scene. "Ok what's the fuss? You're all blocking the corridor. Get back to your compartments before I start taking points."

The crowd started to disperse, leaving only the two first years staring at each other. "That goes for the two of you as well. I don't want to hear it Malfoy, start walking. You too, Wayne."

Harry nodded and turned around. He walked down the train with a smile on his face because this was going to be a good year.

_**January 18 1992  
>Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting the Planet Earth<strong>_

'_The reality of a superhero: minutes of action, days of paperwork.'_ Diana was seated at her desk in her private room on the Watchtower. She had spent the last three hours finishing up her report about the fight against Luthor in Romania. She almost welcomed the alarms when they sounded, signaling the end of the monotony. Diana made for the door and sprinted to the bridge of the Watchtower.

Instead of the bustling activity she was expecting, she was met with a group of superheroes watching a monitor. No one was gearing up to be deployed, no weapons were being readied or armor being donned. Diana was confused to see that everybody was watching a television newscast.

She walked up to the main screen where Superman was standing with a frown on his face.

"Why is no one moving? The alarm has gone off. We should be getting ready to be sent to Earth." Diana looked around confused.

"No one is going to be deployed. The alarm shouldn't have gone off because it's not in our jurisdiction."

Diana furrowed her brow but before she could ask any questions J'onn pointed to the screen that was now showing an anchorwoman sitting behind a desk.

"This is WBCD 7, Gotham's Number One News Station. We are bringing you the latest in the emergency broadcast regarding the prison break. Sources have confirmed that the criminal known as the Joker has escaped from Arkham Asylum and engineered a mass breakout at Blackgate Penitentiary. We have been unable to determine the motive behind the breakout but we are now getting confirmation that every high security inmate in Blackgate Penitentiary is on the loose in the Palisades, right on the outskirts of Gotham-" Diana stopped listening and turned back to Superman.

"Wayne Manor is in the Palisades," she whispered with worry in her voice.

Superman sighed and rubbed a heavy hand down his face. "I know Diana but Batman sent a message to the League reminding us of his policy on metahumans in Gotham. I tried to suggest backup but he cut off his communicator. We haven't been able to get back in contact with him and I'm assuming he is already trying to get control of the situation. He made it perfectly clear that none of us are allowed anywhere near the city. The League gave him its word when he joined. There's nothing we can do now but wait and keep an eye on it from here. I promise Diana, if things get out of hand we'll send a team.

"Batman is down there against hundreds of Gotham's worst criminals and he wants us to stand down?" All Superman could do was shrug helplessly. "What's Gotham's local time?"

Superman was thrown by the abrupt subject change. "It's just past 9 PM, why?"

"I wanted to be sure that the Javelin would be concealed," Diana said before turning and flying to the docking bay.

The flight wasn't long. Diana pushed her plane to its limits trying to get back home before anything happened. Barely an hour had passed and Diana guiding the jet down into the cave. Landing smoothly right alongside the Batwing, she jumped out and surveyed her surroundings.

The computer was on and there were papers scattered on the floor telling her that Bruce had left in a hurry. Alarms, both audible and visual were on. Batman's link to the frequencies used by the Gotham Police Department was jumbled with the voices of victims, officers and dispatchers. She scanned the desktop before pulling up the map of Gotham. Diana watched as the entire perimeter of Gotham blinked like a Christmas tree.

Criminals had taken to breaking into the mansions that dotted the Palisades. The cops had had tried to respond en masse but were slowed by the sheer number of escaped convicts, most of whom were heavily armed, making the idea of retaking each house like fighting a miniature siege. That combined with the area the cops needed to cover ensured that the Joker had time to accomplish whatever he set out to do.

Another alarm was tripped, this time from the sensors surrounding Wayne Manor. Diana took a seat and worked the controls, accessing the camera closest to breach.

Standing just outside the property, clear as day, trying to cut through the fencing around the grounds was Brendan Mitchell. Diana watched as he ordered a group of escaped prisoners to roll away the fencing they had cut and ready their automatic rifles. Mitchell then stepped through the fence and eagerly made his way towards the house.

On a normal Saturday night, it was completely empty apart from herself and Alfred. The daytime staff had already left and Bruce was out trying to get to the problem at its source. She watched as the raiding party approached the manor from the east. With their superior numbers and weaponry, Diana knew that Alfred would stand no chance of stopping this home invasion. She relished the opportunity to meet Mitchell face to face.

She now had the opportunity to confront the man that had tried to kidnap Harry, forced him to run for his life and had terrorized her son's nightmares for years after their encounter. It was an open secret that Bruce had put an end to the deal that Mitchell had made with the district attorney and Diana assumed that he was here seeking retribution and maybe a payday.

Steps echoed on the stairs leading from the house. She looked up and saw Alfred rushing to meet her.

Already in his nightclothes, Alfred panted through his greeting before launching into his preparations. "Thank heavens you are here, Lady Diana. I have secured the west wing and the southern foyer. I was unable to get to the northern foyer before the window was smashed in. The alarm has gone off but I do not believe we are very high on the police force's priority list right now. What would you like me to do?"

Diana's mind had frozen at the new title. Alfred normally called her Miss Diana or, when they had first met, Princess, but he had never addressed her as Lady Diana. It was the same deference with which he referred to Bruce' mother, Martha. She had been living at Wayne Manor for years now and she was just coming to realize what her relationship to Bruce and Harry meant to the rest of her life. Alfred hadn't seen her as help arriving but rather as the lady of the manor defending her home. _'Oh, if Mother could see me now.'_

"If you stay here, you should be safe. Make sure to stay at the computer in case Bruce tries to get in contact with us. I will go upstairs and greet our visitors."

"Are you sure? You know how Master Bruce feels about the League interfering in Gotham business."

"The League isn't interfering. This is my home."

Alfred smiled. The look of pride on his face resembled an adult watching a small child figure out a problem for the first time. "Well said. I will let you know when the police are closing in."

Diana turned to the armory that was kept near the computer. She pulled out an all-black hooded sweat suit that Bruce sometimes used when he was doing recon as Matches Malone. It was time to show Mitchell what happened when you crossed an Amazon.

* * *

><p>Batman focused on the foreboding visage that was Blackgate Penitentiary. The last sighting of the Joker had been in the prison cafeteria. He knew that the cause of the breakout had to be resolved before those nearby could be safe from the convicts.<p>

His earpiece told him that most of the prisoners had made a break for the city, hoping to blend into the crowd, only to be rounded up by the police. The cops were almost overwhelmed by the amount of people they had to transport and hold but were making steady progress in their efforts to stop the convicts.

There hadn't been any chatter involving Wayne Manor and Batman hoped it was because there hadn't been any problems. The thought of calling the Justice League for help was dismissed on as soon as it crossed his mind. Gotham was his city and it wouldn't help his reputation if he needed to call in brightly colored heroes to help with the cleanup. _'No, Batman can handle this problem. Like he always does.'_

He pulled the Batmobile over and parked it in the densest area of the woods he could find and continued on foot. He had to hurry. Sunrise was coming and Batman wasn't made to hide in the sparse forests surrounding the Palisades in the daylight.

Batman scaled walls, snuck pass guards and, when he wasn't able to sneak, grabbed a few from behind and hung them unconscious from the rafters. It wasn't hard to find the cafeteria or locate the Joker. The sounds of scuffling and screams of encouragement were enough clues. Entering through an open window, Batman scaled the rafters and hid in a dark corner.

The scene that unfolded before him was unusual. The Joker had set up a large chair like a throne and placed it on one of the lunch tables. He looked like a king surveying his subjects. And there in the middle of a large circle of inmates were two security guards fighting with makeshift weapons.

"This is getting boooring," the Joker said, resting his head on his fist. He was commenting on the half-hearted jabs with pointed sticks that the guards were using.

"If you don't want to make this interesting than I will." He pulled a gun out and aimed it at the man closest to his throne. Batman pulled a batarang and stalked closer for a clear shot. He stopped moving when the Joker hesitated and looked around.

"Boss, what's wrong?" One of his henchmen asked.

"Wrong? Oh nothing's wrong. Just stopped because that is usually the moment when the Bat interrupts but I guess he's slipping. Now where was I?" He aimed his gun and was about to pull the trigger when something sharp punctured his hand, causing him to drop the gun. "Ahh!" The Joker looked around to see two of his henchmen go down.

"Damn it Batsy, you never let me have any fun!" His words fell on deaf ears in face of the commotion in front of him.

Batman weaved around weapons and blocked punches. It was a dance he had practiced many times. The kicks and punches were all timed to deliver the maximum amount of force. His mind, usually clear of wandering thoughts, now focused on the luck that this occurred after Harry had left for school. An image of Harry in a house surrounded by dangerous criminals threw Batman off enough for him to get tagged with a blow to the ribs.

The pain broke the terrifying turn his thoughts had taken and his concentration, allowing his opponents to gain the upper hand. Now strictly on the defensive, he had to focus on the next punch, the next swing, anticipating attacks in order to stay ahead of the barrage. From behind a pipe crashed into his shoulder, sending him tumbling. It didn't take much to turn the fall into a roll and give himself a chance to regroup.

With a moment to refocus, Batman closed the distance faster than the remaining prisoners could.

Cold. Hard. Focused.

His opponents reeled under the new assault and their numbers dwindled until only four were left.

"I knew you would come out to play Bats. Do you like what I've done with the place?" The Joker jumped down from the table and raced out of the cafeteria.

One of the men picked up a crudely fashioned spear that the guards had been fighting with and tried to skewer the Dark Knight. Grabbing hold of it with two hands, Batman pulled him into a head butt. The meeting of skull and graphite ensured that the man was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Batman broke the pointed mop handle over his knee and used the pieces to deflect the dual attack that the two men armed with pipes launched. Faster and smarter than his attackers, Batman was able to leverage the pipes down and, in an inspired move, dropped the wooden sticks to grab the head of each man and slam them together in an almost comical fashion. That left just the last inmate, who was scrambling for a weapon.

The man charged with fists raised. It was a quick finish. Ducking under a sloppy haymaker, Batman lodged his shoulder under the punching arm and grabbed the opposite shoulder. Lifting him off his feet, Gotham's protector slammed him into the ground.

Quickly checking to make sure that they were all subdued Batman made his way through the door in time to come face to face with a wall of guns.

Filling the hallway to capacity was the GPD SWAT Team. In the lead was Commissioner Gordon.

"Hold your fire!" Gordon holstered his service weapon and waved down everyone else's guns. Turning back to Batman, he said, "Anyone left in there?"

"No. I was following the Joker. He came this way." Batman waved down the hallway in the direction the police had come. "He must've passed by you."

Gordon shook his head. "No one came this way." He waved the SWAT Team forward and said, "Finish the sweep. Find our wounded and get them out of here. All prisoners get rounded up and shipped down to county. We'll worry about their injuries later. Go."

The team split into smaller groups and dispersed, leaving Batman and the Commissioner alone.

"I have to go before the Joker's trail gets cold. You have everything handled here?"

"We'll be fine. All the major problems have been handled. Just a few scattered prisoners needing to be rounded up in the woods." Gordon looked into the cafeteria and took in the sight of his men cuffing the unconscious men. Men that had large welts on their heads or legs and arms bent at wrong angles.

"I never get tired of the condition you leave our gifts in…" The commissioner trailed off as he noticed he was alone in the hallway.

* * *

><p>Diana made it up to the landing that overlooked the northern foyer before the intruders had time to get into the house proper. Below her, she counted seven men rifling through cabinets and pulling out drawers filled with cutlery.<p>

"This is pure silver. Has to be worth a pretty penny." A large man turned to one of his compatriots and held out the formal ware for inspection only for it to be smacked to the ground. Brendan Mitchell stepped into view, causing Diana to squeeze the handrail in front of her.

"We aren't here for forks. We're here to grab the valuable stuff. Paintings, jewelry or maybe someone that Wayne cares about. I know the brat is off at some boarding school so let's see if we can grab his butler or that woman he's been seeing. That's where we'll make our money. Spread out. We don't have much time until the cops show up, we need to make this quick." They split off into pairs and Diana took flight and slowly followed the couple heading up the stairs to the bedrooms.

By the time she could get up there unnoticed, they had started rifling through the wardrobes. One of them was just beginning to comment on her lingerie when she struck.

Two quick strikes to the back of the neck put them both down for the count. She dragged them into a closet and tied them up with a handy wire. Diana floated back downstairs to see that four of them had raided the kitchen. She was about to attack when one of the invaders glanced up and saw her reflection off of the stainless steel fridge.

Cursing her luck, she dove behind the kitchen island before one of the men unleashed a spray of bullets. The automatic rifles would have been a little more difficult to block but that would reveal Wonder Woman's presence. Helping out in her home she could explain but showing up as Wonder Woman was a headache that Diana knew wasn't worth it.

Listening to the men scream in surprise at the gunshots, Diana opened a cabinet and grinned appreciatively at its contents. A gunman tried to flank the island, only to receive a frying pan to the face. The force of it sent him staggering back into the small kitchen table kept for intimate meals.

Popping up from behind the island she hurled another frying pan at the man with the assault rifle, neutralizing him.

The last two – one small and fat, the other tall and sickly – were easy pickings. Diana vaulted over the island and took them both down with some quick, solid punches.

Mitchell wasn't idle during this time. The shots and screams from the small kitchen next to the foyer startled him. "Sands? Emmers? Someone answer me dammit!" He thought that Bruce Wayne or his butler had surprised the group in the kitchen. He wasn't going to go down so easily.

"Come out. It's over." Mitchell was behind cover, his gun ready and pointed at the two doors that led into the foyer. "You might've gotten the drop on my men but that won't happen to me, Wayne."

Diana breathed slowly. She had floated over his head and now stood behind him. It would be simple to reach out and exact punishment. This man was a threat to her family, a threat that wouldn't go away unless she found a way to stop him. Permanently. Breaking into her home was justification enough to deal with him how she saw fit but she tried to control her baser instincts. Bruce would never forgive her.

Diana reached out and grabbed his right shoulder. Squeezing as hard as she could, she didn't stop until she felt the bone crumble and Mitchell screamed in pain.

Her chest heaved. The warrior in her was calling for blood. Amazonian law demanded that this man be put down. Mitchell turned and tried to smack her in the face with the butt of his gun. Diana stopped it and grabbed his left hand. Clenching her fist around his hand, she shattered every bone from his wrist to the bottom of his fingers.

Mitchell screamed. He released the gun. The injury made it impossible to hold on to. Cradling both arms close, it looked as if he were hugging himself. Glancing up he saw a set of cold, glittering azure eyes that made him take a step back. "I'm gonna get you. You'll wish you had never been born." His threat only served to enrage her more and he felt a foot strike his shin, breaking it cleanly in half making him fall to a knee.

Diana grabbed him by the hair and forced him to look her in the eyes. With the hood of the sweat suit up and dressed all in black, there wasn't much to see but her eyes.

"By the time I'm done you won't be able to crawl." One hand clenched in his hair, the other balled up, Diana reared back to hit him when she was interrupted.

"That's enough!" A deep raspy voice cut through the night making everyone in the room freeze.

Diana didn't turn around. One fight had finished and another had yet to begin.

Batman seemed to form out of shadow and approached the pair. The wounded criminal and the angry mother still poised to strike.

Mitchell spat blood. "She's trying to kill me." He didn't have time to process the sensation of a gloved hand grabbing his head until he felt Batman's knee connect with his skull.

Batman pushed him to the ground and Diana spoke up.

"He deserves much more than what I've done to him. He came here looking for someone to ransom." She looked down at the man at her feet. "What if this had happened three weeks ago? What would you have done if Harry was still here and not back at school?

Batman ignored her statement. "The Justice League isn't welcome in Gotham." He looked at her. "You know that."

"The Justice League isn't involved. Superman told me that you denied any help so they're all still up in the Watchtower." Diana dared him to question her.

"Then what are you doing here?" Batman watched her with unblinking eyes.

"You have some nerve, Bruce." Diana stepped closer and jabbed a finger into his chest as hard as she could, forcing him back. "I don't care what you tell the rest of the League but no one is going to warn me away from Gotham."

"Gotham is my city!"

"Gotham is my home! Or have you forgotten that I live here too. Your deal with the rest of the League is your business but no one is going to tell me I can't protect my home." Diana watched as something in his gaze changed. She watched as he looked her over for injuries or so she thought. The fire in his brown eyes wasn't born of anger or concern but of love and maybe a bit of pride.

Stepping closer, he gathered her in his arms and bent down for a kiss until she placed both hands on his chest.

"You know the rules Bruce. No kissing with that ridiculous mask on." Diana reached up and pulled the black cowl off and tossed it over her head.

In between their heated kisses she heard him murmur, "You are absolutely perfect, Princess."

_**January 31 1992  
>Charms Classroom, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

"Today we are going to learn a spell that allows us to create light. Can anyone tell me the incantation and effect? Yes, Ms. Granger."

"The incantation to create light is _lumos_. It allows the user to create a light that is emitted from the tip of their wand. The power of the light depends on the power of the caster. Professor Dumbledore is known to be able to use this spell to create a spotlight strong enough to be seen miles away at night," Hermione answered in near perfect recall of the textbook definition.

"Excellent, five points to Gryffindor. For the rest of the class we will be practicing how to successfully cast this spell. Everyone, please begin." The class was filled with a cacophony of high-pitched voices.

Harry had practiced the charm over the holidays and was well on his way to mastering it. He was focused on making the light progress from dim to bright while a frustrated Blaise Zabini struggled to produce any light at all. Blaise took one look at his desk mate and bumped him with his shoulder.

"Showing off isn't going to get anyone to like you, Wayne," Blaise whispered.

Harry grinned and started focusing the light.

Across the room Hermione sat next to Neville, both of them very intent on finishing their assigned work.

Hermione had already accomplished making light appear from the tip of her wand. And Neville wasn't far behind her. Being the helpful person she was, Hermione couldn't just spend the rest of the class goofing off like everyone else that had finished, she turned her head and looked for someone that was struggling.

And just behind her sat Draco and a boy by the name of Theodore Nott, both of whom were failing to make any light appear.

"You have to focus on wanting the light to appear. It won't work if you don't think of that," Hermione explained, earning Draco's disgust.

"I didn't ask you, you know-it-all. I've been around magic all my life, I will do just fine." Draco went back to concentrating on his wand.

"I was just trying to help." Hermione faced forward, a downtrodden look on her face.

"What possible help could you offer me? You're a muggleborn. I'm a pureblood. I'm better at magic than you. It will always be that way." Draco smirked. His inability to perform the spell was brushed aside at the prospect of putting someone down.

Hermione looked down and started to withdraw into herself when she felt something bump against her shoulder. She looked up and saw Neville's concerned eyes.

"He has nothing on you Hermione. He's the one that made his match to explode when he tried to turn it into a needle." He knew he had achieved the desired effect when Hermione chuckled.

Draco was still having trouble and assumed the laughter was at him falling behind. "What are you laughing at?"

Hermione looked at Neville, who nodded, and turned around to face Draco. "I was laughing at you and your amazing magical ability. Correct me if I'm wrong but wasn't it you that Professor McGonagall made write a four foot essay on how not to hold a wand. What was it she said again? 'The worst technique I've ever seen.' The way I see it is you should accept help whenever you can. You're barely able to do any magic." The last part was said in a loud voice.

Draco flushed in shame. He could hear the snickering and outright laughing echo through the room. He stared holes into the back of Hermione's head.

Hermione turned around with a smile on her face. Her cheeks turned bright pink when Neville smiled with pride. Before Draco could find a retort an announcement was heard throughout the school.

Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the halls and classrooms. "Attention. All classes for the rest of the day are cancelled. All students out of class must report to their common rooms immediately. All teachers in class must escort their students back to their common rooms where prefects will be taking attendance. Any student caught out of their common room will face serious consequences. Teachers, please begin escorting them now."

* * *

><p>"Can you believe that oaf tried to raise a dragon in his wooden hut?" Draco crowed. He was sitting in the middle of a large group of lower year students, all listening intently to his rambling. Most of the older students were still in the library, using the free time to catch up on studying.<p>

The school's houses were buzzing with gossip. Rumors spread through the student body quickly about a dragon being seen flying away from the gamekeeper's hut. No one could be sure where the rumor started but the announcement ordering all the younger students back to the common room just added fuel to the fire.

The story ranged from a small baby dragon escaping the wooden house to a monstrous beast that ravaged the area around the hut and scorched the trees before taking flight.

Even if the story wasn't verified, most of the Slytherins were using the opportunity to make fun of the large gamekeeper. Draco went on and on about telling his father and getting Hagrid fired. He riled up the rest of the students in the common room, even some of the older ones, to the point where they heartily agreed with everything he said.

Harry sat in the chair in the farthest corner. After embarrassing Draco on the train returning from London, the rest of the house gave him a wide berth. Unless they were muttering to themselves or giving him dirty looks, his fellow first years never ventured near him when they sat in the common room. Unable to concentrate on his homework, Harry rolled his eyes every time Draco came up with a more ridiculous scheme to take to his father.

He returned to his essay on the differences between a cup and a goblet and how to transfigure it back and forth when he heard a question asked in a lull in the conversation.

"Isn't that right, Greengrass?" Everyone's head turned to the young blonde. Harry looked up and watched as she closed her eyes and put down her quill.

"Draco, how many times do I need to tell you not to pull me into your stories? The fact is no one actually saw anything and if they did we don't know who it was, so that means that nothing happened. Now shut up and leave me alone," Daphne said without looking up from her paper.

The room went deathly quiet. Draco's face turned red, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. The crowd that had gathered around him waited for the explosion. They watched as he quickly walked over to the table where she was working and snatched the paper out from under her quill.

"What are you going to do, Draco? Am I supposed to be scared of you? Granger, a muggleborn of all people, put you in your place just earlier today. So why don't you just sulk away."

Draco's face turned a darker shade of red and he ripped the leaf of parchment in half. "You're nothing but the daughter of a com-" So focused on finishing his taunt, Draco didn't see the hand speeding towards his face. The sound of fingers rebounding off of his face echoed through the room. No one dared to move.

"You fucking who-" Draco was ready for the next slap and caught her wrist before she could smack him. "You're gonna get it now." He pulled Daphne out of her chair and onto her feet. "We're going to teach you what happens when you try to embarrass a Malfoy."

Harry closed his book and was about to get up when he froze. _'What are you doing? She told you very clearly that she doesn't want your help.'_ He watched the pair standing in the middle of the room when Daphne started to struggle against the hold Draco had on her.

Harry could see from the stubborn line of her jaw, the defiant way she tried to pry open the fist that was holding her wrist, that she would put up one hell of a fight but all of that melted away when he saw her eyes. Though her eyes were narrowed, he could see the way the blood drained from her face. She was scared and when her eyes met his, Harry could see them widen. He could almost see his mother staring at him expectantly and thought, _'I get it, Mom, I get it.'_

"I think I owe you something. Show you where your place is. Show you what happens when you try to make a fool out of me." Draco pulled back his arm and was about to deliver a slap when a fist closed around his forearm.

"I think I embarrassed you first. It wouldn't be fair if she was treated before me." Harry pushed him away, giving them room to react if Draco tried to draw his wand.

With only Daphne at his back, Harry realized just how unpopular he was. Almost half of the first year wands were pointing at him and a few of the upper years as well. And it was at that moment he promised to thank Alfred and his father the first chance he got.

'_Someday you're going to get into trouble and they're going to outnumber you. If that day ever comes there are only two things that you need to remember: always take out the more dangerous hostiles first and NEVER STOP MOVING.'_ Harry took a deep breath and started moving once Draco started moving his wand.

Harry stepped toward the third year to his left and pulled on the hand that was going for a wand that was still in the boy's robes. Catching him by surprise, Harry pulled the boy and threw him over his hip. Hoping not to get hit, Harry ducked behind one of the second year bullies and grabbed on to his robes to shield against any of the retaliatory spells. But he needn't have worried because the rest of the circle was still watching in shock as the older boy went down in a tumble.

Coming back to his senses, Draco led his two bodyguards in an attempt to rush Harry. Needing to make a move quickly Harry pushed the willowy boy who was still trying to break away from the grip on the back of his robes into the oncoming trio. The collision knocked them to the ground in a tangle of limbs. That left Harry with only three more attackers. He hoped that Daphne had enough sense to get away.

'_Use cover whenever it's available.' _Harry took his father's advice and ducked behind a couch. He could hear the moans of pain coming from the boy he had tossed to the ground and the thundering footsteps heading towards the couch. Sticking his foot out, Harry managed to trip Nott who went face first into the leg of a nearby chair. Harry couldn't help but let out a small laugh. It was like a scene from a movie.

"That's enough Wayne. Come out it's over."

Harry peaked over the couch. Draco stood in the middle of the room, wand in hand. Directly behind him, Daphne was being held back by Crabbe and Goyle, her arms pinned at her sides.

"You should've stayed out of it. It didn't concern you. But now I have to teach the two of you a lesson. Take your hand off your wand." Draco watched as Harry put his hands in the air when he smiled dangerously.

"Just like that. _Diffindo!"_

Harry froze. He expected to be roughed up a bit but nothing this serious. As Draco finished the short jab required for the spell, his breath exploded out of him in a pained whimper.

Harry ducked the poorly aimed spell and rolled forward to see Daphne's foot connect with the boy's crotch from behind. He used the distraction and pushed Draco back onto Crabbe while Daphne shirked off Goyle's hold.

Both sides pulled their wands, pointing it at the opponent in front of them. Harry and Daphne, back to back, were surrounded.

"What is going on here?" Snape exploded from the wall leading to the rest of the school. "I am called away for a moment and you begin to act like barbarians?"

"It was Wayne, professor. He attacked us and Greengrass helped him." Draco pointed at the pair in the middle who had just lowered their wands.

"So Mr. Wayne decided to attack a room full of people, some of whom are older than him, for no reason and Ms. Greengrass decided to help him?" Draco nodded vigorously. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Do I look like an imbecile to you, Mr. Malfoy? No one in this house is stupid or reckless enough to fight a room full of people." Snape turned to the Crabbe, as if doubting his own words.

"And where were the prefects," Snape glared at the older students that had been ignoring the first years. "We will speak of this later. Everyone to your rooms! Curfew has come early because I cannot trust you to behave like human beings."

Harry watched as the room quickly emptied. He held onto Daphne's arm in an attempt to shield her.

"That means you too, Wayne." Snape waited and the boy nodded and pulled Daphne along to the staircase that led to the rooms.

"Where are you taking me, Wayne? I'm not going into your room." Daphne pulled her arm out of his grasp.

"You're bleeding. I just want to get you cleaned up. C'mon." Harry led her into his room and began searching his trunk for the first aid kit his father packed for him.

Daphne felt her nose. It was tender and when she pulled her hand away it came back crimson from a parting shot that Goyle had given her when they tussled. She decided to stay and let Wayne help. Looking around she saw that the room was mostly cluttered with books and pictures.

Muggle photos of a man and a woman, who she assumed were his parents. A few with Wayne in the middle but the most prominently displayed pictures were of Wayne and a blonde girl who looked older than him.

"That's Kara." Harry walked up behind her. He held up a gauze pad and an ice pack. "Here, to wipe the blood and ease the pain." He sat down on his bed and watched as she surveyed the pictures.

"Who is she?" Daphne asked as she turned around.

"My best friend. Has been since we were little."

"Why did you help me?" she asked, suspicion evident in her voice.

Harry nodded to the pictures. "My mom. She would've had my behind if I didn't. Besides, I've wanted to hit him since September." Daphne choked back a laugh.

"Maybe you're not so bad after all, Wayne."

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p>

A/N 2: I wanted to say thanks to my beta, AntHil, for the line Harry used about Malfoy and the reasonably sized town.


	13. Face to Face

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics.

A/N: Just wanted to say something before you guys read on.

1. Harry is 11. He will get his powers when I am good and ready. He is too young to be flying around, glowing green.  
>2. As much as I appreciate the ideas, I have it covered. The story is already mapped out and it will progress as I have decided.<br>3. To the anonymous reviewer named "25". Nothing you said made sense. Harry didn't lose the fight to Malfoy. It was a scuffle not a brawl. I'm pretty sure you can't have a brawl at age 11. He wasn't trained by Bruce but by Alfred. So please read before reviewing.  
>4. If you're going to try and bash me I would appreciate it if you had the balls to login so I can message you back.<br>5. I know it's been a while but I'm not going to apologize for that. Real life take priority over anything on here.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Face-to-Face<strong>

_**February 18 1992 Dinnertime  
>Kent Farm, Smallville<strong>_

The older man placed the napkin in his lap and said, "Pass the greens Clark."

"Ok Pop."

"Clark, elbows off the table," Martha Kent commanded, "I raised you better than that."

Clark pulled his arms back with a sheepish grin. Sparing a glance for his giggling cousin, he helped himself to more potatoes.

Martha Kent set her fork down and enjoyed the sight of her family sitting together at the table for a rare family dinner.

She couldn't help but glow with pride when she looked at her son. She may not have given birth to Clark but it was how she and her husband, Jonathan, raised him that made him into the man he was today.

And soon Kara joined their family. Martha had welcomed her into their modest home once she learned that Clark had found a cousin floating in the debris of Kyrpton.

"How was school today, Kara? Learn anything interesting?" She leaned in and continued in a stage whisper, "Talk to any cute boys?"

"Aunt Martha!" Kara blushed a beet red. She ducked her head, keeping her eyes on her plate. "Stop it!"

"Oh leave her alone, Martha," Jonathan said chuckling. He could almost feel the girl's cheeks heat up from where he sat. "Everyone goes through it. It's part of growing up and no one is immune to it. I remember all the angst Clark went through with his high school sweetheart. What was that girl's name? Lana Lang?"

"Dad!" Clark exclaimed. Talking mostly to himself, he added, "More than a decade goes by and I still can't live it down."

"Lana? How come I never heard of her?" Kara smirked at her cousin. "So how bad was it?" She between him and her aunt and uncle. "Was he has bad as he is with Lois? Did you spend all your time with her?"

Clark smirked at the opening. "About as much time as you spend with Harry." Kara rolled her eyes. _'That's not even close to the same thing.'_

The elder Kents laughed at the exchange between the two.

Jonathan smiled at his wife and decided to change the subject for everyone's peace of mind. "When does Harry get back Kara?"

Kara tried to smile but failed; the absence of her best friend weighed heavily on her mind. "I thought he would get out for spring break but it is later than ours. He wrote last week to let me know." She looked up and everyone at the table could feel her disappointment. "I won't see him until he comes back for summer vacation."

Martha patted Kara's hand.

"I'm sure he's missing you just as much as you're missing him."

* * *

><p>'<em>Finally.'<em>

Harry walked out of the castle doors. He had waited until long after curfew before making his move. Now, clad in a dark blue sweat suit, he crept down the path that led to the quidditch pitch.

He had always loved flying. From first time Kara had flown him around the grounds until the first time he was handed a magical broom, he knew he had to find a way to fly on his own. His heart began to race when he neared the broom shed under the stands.

It wasn't hard working the lock. He had varying degrees of success when practicing the unlocking charm and decided he was better off just picking the lock. After a few minutes of haggling, the lock popped free and he was granted access.

He picked out the least beat up broom he could find and took off. Twists and turns, corkscrews, loops and dives; Harry enjoyed the wind rushing through his air as he whooped and cheered. _'I have to talk to Dad about getting me one of these.'_

He imagined it was just a step lower than the feeling that most of his friends in the League were accustomed to. Not as good as actual self sustained flight but it was the best he could do.

Deciding it was time to wrap it up, he looked around to make sure he was alone. Without warning he shot up into the sky.

Bent low on the borrowed broom Harry gained altitude. He flew until the school was a collection of lights far below him. Hovering in the cold air, Harry looked down and made up his mind. Leaning forward, he hurtled toward the ground in a steep dive.

His eyes were wide but determination was written all over his face. Harry watched the ground rush up to meet him and pulled out of the fall just in time to skim the grass. What he didn't expect was to catch the ground with his toes and take a tumble, head over heels, across the pitch.

Once he had regained his breath from the roll, Harry started to laugh. The adrenaline and fear made for a heady combination and he could still feel it. Regaining control of his limbs, Harry sat up and paled at the sight before him. Standing at the entrance to the quidditch pitch and staring right at him was Professor Snape.

Glancing around and coming to the conclusion that there was no way that he could get away unseen, Harry decided to go quietly. Picking the broom up, he made his way over to his head of house and presented himself for punishment.

"Professor." Harry addressed the potions professor with his head bowed.

"Mr. Wayne." Snape didn't say anything more and held his hand out for the broom. Keeping his eyes on his trainers, Harry handed it over and waited for the axe to fall.

"This will not happen again, understood?" Harry was too nervous to do anything but nod. "Back to your room, Mr. Wayne."

Harry nodded, relieved, and turned back to the castle. He stopped when the professor called his name.

"Mr. Wayne, I would advise you to attend the tryouts for next year's quidditch team. And perhaps find yourself a broom that hasn't been around since the headmaster was a student here." Snape held out the thinly bristled broom as an example.

Harry nodded again and walked quickly back to the castle.

_**May 10 1992 Late Afternoon  
>Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

The spectators of the Quidditch Finals huddled together, fighting off the chill from the uncharacteristically cold rain.

High above them the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams battled for bragging rights and the Quidditch Cup. The match had started off like any other but with an intensity that made most of the crowd cringe.

The Slytherin team, compromised of mostly upperclassman, began with the tactics they were known for, rough play and intimidation. As the match continued it didn't seem like the younger Gryffindors could keep up. The first five minutes saw a parade of thrown elbows, knees, headbutts, mistimed bat swings and grabs that forced Professor McGonagall to change the commentator.

When the deficit reached a demoralizing one hundred and ten points, the Gryffindor fourth year captain, Oliver Wood, called a timeout.

"Girls, we need to find a way to stop their charge. Their chasers are terrible but I can't guard the goals if I'm facing all three of them at the same time. We need to put some points on the board," Oliver told his chaser line. He knew they were outmatched. The oldest of the three would not turn fourteen for a few months yet and they were battling with guys more than twice their size.

The youngest of the three, twelve year-old Katie Bell stepped forward. "Our formations won't work. Every time we gear up for another run one of the bludgers breaks it up."

Oliver had seen the same thing and he turned towards his beaters. "Fred, George, we won't be able to win if we don't get control of the bludgers."

"Damn we're trying Olie but I don't think these guys have read the rulebook. Every time we manage to corner one, one of their beaters rams us from behind. And Urquhart isn't light; he weighs three stones more than the two of us-" Fred was interrupted.

"Put together!" George finished for his twin.

Shoulders slumped, Oliver turned to the last member of their team.

Amanda Eastchurch was the only upperclassman on the team. A seventh year, she had reluctantly agreed to be the seeker for the team, not because she had any remarkable talent but because she was the only one that had been able to keep up with the snitch at all.

"What can you do for us Mandy?"

Amanda looked at the group and shrugged her shoulders. "I might not be that good but Puglist isn't any better. I've seen the snitch more than a few times today and if you can give me cover for just a little time I think I can get it. But I need to be able to chase it alone."

Oliver nodded his head. That was the only strategy they had left. He turned to his beaters and relayed the plan, "I want the two of you to focus all of your attention on Puglist; as hard as you can, for as long as you can. If we can give Mandy enough time we can end this."

Seeing the twins nod, he turned towards his chasers. "Angie, Katie, Alicia, I want you to bait their beaters and try to get them to accidentally slow Puglist down. Don't worry about scoring, if we get the snitch we win. I'll handle their chasers."

Oliver looked at the rest of his team before turning back to his seeker. "It's up to you Eastchurch. We can buy you a little time, a few minutes at most, before they realize what we're doing. Find the snitch and get us the win." Her pale-faced nod was her only response.

The two teams took to the air at the end of the timeout and resumed play. It wasn't long before the confident Slytherins became confused by the Gryffindors complete and utter refusal to move the quaffle into scoring range.

One of the chasers would catch the quaffle and instead of heading down the pitch, they would follow Puglist in his search for the snitch. Puglist on his part was becoming more and more frustrated with each passing moment. Whenever he would get a read on the snitch one of the bludgers would whisk pass them, hit by one of his teammates. _'What the hell are they doing?'_ Puglist thought as he dodged yet another bludger.

Puglist didn't have time to think of an answer before he heard the crowd gasp. He turned and watched Eastchurch dive, only meters behind the snitch.

In an orchestrated doppelganger tactic, Fred and George cornered both bludgers and aimed them one after the other at Puglist. As graceful as he could, the Slytherin seeker sloth rolled out of the way and lost valuable time in the race for the snitch.

Amanda on the other hand was flying alone. Her team's strategy was working perfectly and she had pulled far ahead of Puglist. Not a terrible seeker but not a good one either, Amanda slowly lost the lead while taking turns too wide or diving too slow and before she knew it Puglist had pulled up right behind her.

Amanda pushed her broom as hard as it could go, ignoring its slight shuddering. She pulled up right behind her prize and reached forward. At the same time, Puglist, acting out of desperation reached forward and pulled of the thistles of her broom as hard as he could.

Not expecting such a blatant attack, Amanda had let go of the handle and reached with both two hands to snatch her prize. One second she was using her legs to guide the broom under her, the next second she was soaring through the air in front of a broom that had stopped dead.

The Gryffindor crowd gasped then booed when their seeker plummeted from the sky. After watching the fall, Hermione buried her face into Neville's shoulder. She shook with every gasp and audible wince that the crowd released. Neville shook her and said, "I think she's ok."

Hermione turned around just as her house burst into cheer.

Amanda tumbled head over heels, arms clutched to her chest. A foul was called belatedly and the crowd fell silent when Madam Hooch landed to examine the fallen player.

As one, the entire crowd drew a slow breath and released it when Amanda, still on her back from the fall, raised her hand into the air and showed the captured snitch to the jubilant crowd.

* * *

><p>Quirrell walked through the quiet school, using the distraction of the quidditch match to further test the defenses around the stone.<p>

He had failed spectacularly during Halloween. Setting the troll loose in the castle had seemed to be a perfect way to draw everyone's attention and focus it away from the Third Floor corridor. There was no way he could have known that McGonagall would stumble across it on her way to secure more liquor or that Dumbledore would come to her aid so quickly. His master had tortured him for hours that night. There was no room for failure.

The Christmas holidays seemed like the perfect time but again the headmaster's lack of routine was their plan's undoing. Quirrell would be at the cerberus' chamber when Voldemort would sense his old teacher approaching.

The year was coming to a close and both of them knew that Dumbledore would surely move the stone to a more secure hiding place during the summer.

For the most part, the defenses around the stone weren't very difficult for the possessed wizard. A round of Devil's Snare followed closely by enchanted keys had done nothing more than annoy him. It was the Transfiguration professor's test that caused him to pause.

Voldemort hadn't been at Hogwarts when Minerva McGonagall attended. Although late by several years, he still heard stories about her prowess with a wand, stories that grew in legend until they rivaled Dumbledore's, if gossip was to be believed. After making it to her chamber he was starting to do just that.

She had woven a remarkable series of spells. It was an elaborate blend of conjurations and enchantments. Her test gave the visitor only one opportunity to make their intent clear before activating. All it took was one wrong move before stone knights and warriors attacked viciously.

Unable to give the correct password, Quirrell was immediately set upon. The only reason he hadn't died in the assault was the timely interference of his master's spirit. After defeating all of the conjured statues and escaping relatively unscathed, the master and servant made it to a room filled with potion vials. Spotting a scroll lying on the floor in front of them, Quirrell read it out loud.

"This will take me some time to figure out, Master."

"_Severus was always a clever one. We have no more time to waste. Our next excursion will be the last and we will have the stone." _Voldemort responded in his mind. _"Leave. We cannot be caught here when the match ends."_

It was on their way out that they were almost undone.

An angry mewling broke the silence.

Quirrell unfroze and snapped his wand up. Tail raised and hair on end, the cat hissed angrily. All it took was a whisper of a spell and the cat was petrified. He summoned it to him before disillusioning himself.

It was Quirrell that spoke first. "We need to go, M-master. Wherever that damned cat is, Filch is not far behind." He had no need to fake the stuttering in his speech.

"_You are correct. It wouldn't do to kill the caretaker; not with so much more work to be done. Kill the cat and we will take our leave." _Quirrell shivered at his master's spike of adrenaline at the mention of the creature's demise.

"Kill?"

"_It serves no purpose. End its life or I will end yours." _Voldemort could still feel the hesitance and using some of Quirrell's own magic he gained control of the terrified wizard's body.

Quirrell, like he was a spectator in his own body, watched horrified as his own two hands gripped tightly around the feline's neck and twisted. A last yowl was heard before the bones in Mrs. Norris' neck cracked. A flick of the wand and the cat's body smoldered like ash and broke apart in his hands.

The old caretaker walked around the corner, calling for his faithful pet, as the possessed teacher disappeared from sight.

_**June 1 1992 Mid Afternoon  
>Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

The headmaster sat in his office. Shifting papers, he went over every point deducted and detention issued in the past week. It had taken some time but Dumbledore had seen that the staff had caught on to the practice after being informed of overturned punishments. And by the staff, he thought on his potion's master in particular.

The grandfather clock across from his desk chimed the hour and reminded the headmaster of his engagement the following night.

"Dipsy," he called.

A very serious looking house elf popped into the spacious office. Bowing quickly, it waited for instructions.

"I will need my dress robes pressed and laid out for my dinner at the Ministry tomorrow tonight. They will need to be ready an hour before dinner is to be served in the Great Hall. Thank you." The elf nodded.

"Will you be wanting the turquoise or the magenta robes, headmaster?"

"Surprise me."

"Dipsy will be setting out the magenta robes, sir," the elf said, ignoring the slight look of amusement on the headmaster's face. They were then interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Thank you Dipsy. That is all." The elf popped away as Dumbledore called out, "Enter." He watched as his potion's professor walked in and took a seat.

"Thank you for coming Severus. I know this is your only break of the day."

"Yes, yes Headmaster. Please get on with it. As you said I do not have much free time today." Snape waved his hand in a hurry up motion. "I assume this is about me patrolling the corridors while you are away."

Dumbledore nodded. "We will need to be extra vigilant. The disappearance of Argus' pet has set me on edge. Something is afoot and I do not want to be caught unawares. You will have a host of other teachers helping you. Investigate anything that you deem unusual. Vigilance will serve you well but, I daresay, paranoia will serve you best."

_**June 2 1992 Late Night  
>Dungeons, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

"Master, the pawns are in place. They will begin once the clock strikes midnight," Quirrell whispered excitedly.

"_Make sure you do not fail me, Quirinus. I will not suffer a fool. Once Severus goes running to sort out the wayward students we will make our way to the stone." _A shiver ran down Quirrell's spine at the indisputable note of pleasure that echoed from his master's voice.

As a distant clock chimed the hour a loud explosion shook the castle. Screams and footsteps could be heard, all fading into the distance. As predicted, Snape flew down the hall, wand out and a determined expression on his face. The master and servant waited until his footsteps faded before they made their move.

While Snape was dealing with the aftermath of Voldemort's distraction, his former master was making his way through the defenses surrounding the Philosopher's Stone.

* * *

><p>Harry made his way quietly through the common room. He had just about made it to the door when a voice made him jump.<p>

"And where do you think you're going, Wayne?"

Harry turned around and rolled his eyes at the speaker. Standing at the foot of the stairs was Daphne. Since the incident with Malfoy in the common room, they had begun a tentative friendship.

After his rescue, Daphne had been much more civil to him. She no longer ignored him and the mocking tone she had used with him became more teasing. Poking fun whenever he didn't know something or bringing him down when he was getting carried away. They struck up an unusual friendship in their house. No one had thought that a proper pureblood would ever befriend an American muggleborn. And because of this, Daphne was often ignored or sneered at by others in Slytherin.

Her response when Harry asked why she wouldn't defend herself was, "A Greengrass doesn't need to explain their actions." He was brought out of his thoughts when a small finger poked his shoulder painfully.

Daphne pulled her hand back to deliver another one when Harry stepped back. "I asked you a question, Wayne. It's past curfew and the headmaster made sure to tell everyone at dinner that there was to be no wanderings tonight. What do you want to risk punishment for?"

Harry looked down bashfully. "I wanted to go down to the pitch and fly some more." He continued on when she didn't look impressed by his answer. "I don't have a broom at home and this might be the last night the brooms are kept at the pitch before summer. I just wanted to fly a little before we left tomorrow. I don't know how long it will be before I can go again."

"You're going to risk not coming back next year so you can go flying?" Daphne asked incredulously.

Harry grinned. "Want to come with?"

Daphne snorted and rolled her eyes. "I'm going to bed, where I don't risk being expelled. If you make it back without being caught, don't wake me. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Wayne." She turned and walked back up the stairs.

"Goodnight Daphne."

Harry walked out the door, glad that she hadn't seen through his lies. There was a room filled with record books on the other side of the dungeons that he planned to scour before the night was through.

* * *

><p>It was only a short time later that Voldemort and his possessed servant exited the chamber that held the thrice decapitated cerberus. The Dark Lord felt a rush of satisfaction and an eagerness to resume his corporal existence.<p>

The castle was silent and Quirrell was sure they didn't have much time before they were discovered. "Master, we should leave. We have the stone. I can have the ritual prepared as soon as we reach the house."

"_Yes, we have expelled much energy tonight," _Voldemort drawled. _"It would not be wise to be caught. Quickly then."_

The duo headed for the doors to the Entrance Hall when Quirrell's body was wrested from his control. "Master?"

"_Silence! I felt a pulse of strong magic. That goblin half-breed is standing guard outside those doors. I do not trust your waning magic against his skill. We will need to find a different route. Head to the dungeon, we can use one of the school's hidden passages to the forest. Now, before we are discovered!"_

Quickly and silently they made their way to the dungeons. They had just left the stairwell when a door was pushed open in front of them. Quirrell drew his wand and trained it on the small figure exiting the records room.

"Wayne?"

"Professor!" Harry dropped the book he was carrying and yelped in surprise. "I'm sorry, professor. I didn't k-"

A loud voice from behind Quirrell rang through the hall. "We do not have time."

Harry looked around. "Who was that? Professor, what's going on?"

And then a commanding, "Kill the boy," made Harry's eyes widen.

"Master?"

Harry used the hesitation and slowly edged backwards until he was back in the room. He lunged at the door, trying to pull it shut, when a spell collided with it, keeping it open. As Harry struggled to close the door, ropes shot from Quirrell's wand wrapping themselves around Harry's arms and legs.

Harry twisted and turned but no matter how hard he tried, the ropes wouldn't give.

"Finish him, now!" The command was clear and Harry froze. He could see his professor hesitantly walking toward him and felt a fear that hadn't been experienced since that day in Gotham so long ago. As Quirrell raised his wand, an alarm sounded in the castle.

"Wait. They know we have taken the stone. The wards will have been placed to detect any exit. We will use him as a hostage."

Harry struggled against his bonds before he was able to shimmy a hand free and make a grab for Quirrell's hand. A scream ripped through the air.

"Master! Master, what is this?" Quirrell pulled his hands back and watched as his fingers turned grey and crumbled into dust from the force of his trembling. "Please! Please stop it!" He begged as he lost his entire left hand.

Harry watched on in horror, as one of his professors broke apart in front of his eyes.

"What have you done?" Voldemort could feel his servant's life fading rapidly. He didn't know what spell was causing their shared magic to drain so quickly, leaving nothing behind to sustain Quirrell's life. Using what little of what was left, Voldemort wrested control from the dying man and moved toward Harry.

"Who are you boy?" The words were an eerie echo, spoken with two voices. Using the remaining hand, Voldemort grabbed Harry's chin and forced their eyes to meet. Feeling the connection, he barreled into the boy's mind.

He ignored the boy struggling out of his weakening grasp as he pulled on any information he could to determine how he had been beaten tonight. The drain on his magic made it too hard to focus on the assault, making the memories came out randomly.

"_Remember Harry, best friends."_

"_Stay out of Dudley's room. You don't deserve any toys."_

"_Hello Harry, my name is Diana."_

"_Master Harry, it is time to rise for school."_

"_Looks like you're a wizard."_

The memories flashed by, none of them giving him any clue how a mere boy had killed his possessed body with nothing but a touch. As the last vestiges of magic faded another memory began to play.

"_Nothing and no one will stand between me and everlasting life. This is the final obstacle, after this I will be immortal."_

A pair of red eyes and then, _"Avada Kedavra!"_

Voldemort was expelled from the mind by a green light brighter than any killing curse. It was strong enough to slam him against the wall. The body crumbled. Voldemort wasn't at all bothered by the death of his servant; his focus was on the boy who was pulling off the loosened ropes wrapped around his body.

"Potter? How can this be? You are dead. I stood at your grave."

Harry felt like a band had wrapped around his chest and squeezed. Of all the people in the world to figure out who he was…

Harry watched as the eyes that haunted his nightmares floated to a hover over him and said, "You cannot stop me. Death could not take away my power and a boy will not be able to stop the purge."

The shade's eyes were red and unforgiving in their fury. With one last look at the boy that had defeated him twice, Voldemort floated through a wall and out of sight.

"_No. No. No. This has to be a dream. That…this has to be a dream."_ Harry's heart raced and his mind was lost in the events of the last few minutes. He slowly got up and looked around. Besides the pile of ashes and turban lying in the middle of the hallway, Harry couldn't see any evidence of the evil wizard that had just left.

Then there were footsteps. Harry looked down at what was once his defense professor and decided this was not a place to be when someone happened on the scene, so he took off back to the Slytherin common room. As he ran out of the light of the torches and into the shadows Severus Snape turned the corner at a sprint.

Dark eyes shifting, Snape slowed down as he came upon a bundle of clothing. Taking in his surroundings and making sure he wasn't going to be taken by surprise, Snape bent down to examine his findings. And then as quick as a flash, he whipped his wand out and shouted, _"Lumos Maxima!" _

The hall lit up, the light reached every crevice and exposed very nook but Snape was very much alone.

He wound the turban into his hand with a sneer and tossed it aside. Resting amidst the ashes and clothing was a murky red stone. Prodding it with his wand, Snape determined that it was in fact the Philosopher's Stone and this had to be the person who stole it, this was Quirinius Quirrell.

He didn't look up as fast footsteps reached him. Ignoring the look on the Flitwick's he said, "We need to report this to the headmaster. Do not touch it. It is not supposed to look like that."

_**June 3 1992 Afternoon  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

Snape sat in front of the headmaster's desk, reliving for the hundredth time what had occurred the night before. After repeating himself twice in the last five minutes he growled at Dumbledore.

"There is nothing else to tell you. He was nothing but ash by the time I found him."

Dumbledore looked doubtful but nodded. "There are many dark rituals used to give spirits asylum in another's body and they all call for a vital sacrifice from the host to be successful. It might have been that Quirinius' magic was used as the sacrifice." The headmaster shook his head at the tragic fall of one of his professors.

With a grim face he said, "This only confirms that Tom is still alive. Well, as alive as a shadow of a man can be." Dumbledore's somber mood was only exceeded by Snape's sneer.

"He will return. Tom is much too clever to be restrained by his current form. There is much that I need you to do. We have to prepare," Dumbledore mused out loud.

Snape returned the expectant look with a fierce glare. "Why should I do anything for you? I came to you for help and you failed. Failed more spectacularly than any person has ever failed before. Why should I risk my life again?"

"For her. That was your promise all those years ago, was it not?"

"She wouldn't care. There is nothing left for her in this world. My promise was to protect her son. He is gone. I owe no one." Hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles were white, Snape stalked from the office and slammed the door behind him.

Dumbledore shook his head, not at all surprised with the turn of events. "I truly hope that when the time comes that you will see that we will all need to work together to stop the rising tide. It cannot happen without you."

* * *

><p>The scarlet train pulled into the station in London. Amidst the crowd of fidgeting siblings and anxious parents were two of Earth's mightiest heroes.<p>

Without Kara, who was still at home finishing her first year of high school, all of the nervous excitement seemed to be generated by Harry's mother. She bounced on her toes, squeezed Bruce's hand and peeked over the heads of nearby families for a glance of her son.

The doors opened and the crowd on the platform surged forward. Bruce and Diana watched as members of the crowd stumbled into each other as if pushed out of the way. Whatever it was that was forcing its way through the families before it burst from the crowd.

Apologizing for rolling his trunk over more than one persons foot, Harry turned and scanned the platform. He spotted his parents, dropped his trunk and sprinted the last few yards until he slammed into the smiling couple.

Diana pried his arms off and bent down to hug him properly. "We've missed you so much Harry. You've grown so tall. Oh, who is this?" She looked at the small blonde girl standing primly a few feet from the family, staring expectantly at Harry.

"Mom, Dad, this is Daphne Greengrass. She's a friend in my house." _'The only friend,' _he thought.

"Daphne, these are my parents Bruce and Diana."

Daphne stepped forward and offered her hand politely. "It is a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Wayne, Mr. Wayne." Diana smirked and shook her hand. Bruce smiled charmingly at her, offered his hand leaving Daphne blushing.

Diana elbowed Bruce while Daphne turned back to Harry. "I'll try and write Wayne. I'll see you in September." Nodding to him, she turned to look for her own parents.

Once they were alone again, Diana pulled Harry back into a hug. "How was the rest of the school year?"

Even though he had been expecting a question like this, Harry still hesitated. The fight with Malfoy in the common room, the supposed dragon getting loose on the grounds and the shady apparition of Voldemort trying to kill him all flashed through his mind. If he told any of that to his parents he wouldn't be allowed to set foot in Britain again and he couldn't do that to Daphne.

He had finally made a friend and he couldn't leave her alone in Slytherin, where she would be as much a target next year as she was this past one. The only option was to lie to his parents and for the sake of his magical future and his friendship with Daphne he put a smile on his face.

"It was great. We learned so much. I'll show you when we get home. Can we pick up Kara on the way there?" Harry rambled on.

The small family made their way through the portal and into the summer break.

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	14. Changing Times

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern **

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: Changing Times<strong>

_**July 13 1992 Morning  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

Diana reclined on the couch, a book forgotten in her hand as she watched her son.

In the days since coming back, Harry had taken to zoning out. She often caught him staring out the window with an intense expression on his face. Whenever he was asked about it, Harry would shake his head and start going on about how amazing magic was and how much more he needed to learn.

She couldn't really decide who he was trying to convince, them or himself. Even though she didn't know if there was a problem to begin with, Diana couldn't help feeling worried.

The summer only seemed to get worse once Harry realized that Kara was starting her training for her League training. Nights usually spent hosting a sleepover became reserved for studying League procedure and sunny days meant for running on the grounds became time devoted to drills; Kara soaked up all the attention that came with being the Justice League's newest recruit while Harry sat at home reading books.

Diana had seen this coming. Their age difference hadn't meant much when all they wanted to do was run around and play games but the gap was catching up with them.

Harry had come back from a long year and he couldn't understand why his best friend and partner in crime didn't want to play with him. That wasn't to say that Harry didn't realize Kara was getting older; he just hadn't thought that their friendship would suffer for it.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"I know Kara has the weekend off from training, why don't you invite her over? You haven't spent much time with her this summer."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "She said she's spending the weekend over at her friend Mandy's house. They have a summer assignment she wanted to work on."

Diana read the frown on his face and made up her mind to bring him out of his funk. "Why don't you show me some of the spells you've been working on?" She was disappointed when Harry could only summon a half-hearted smile and walked to his room to get his wand.

'_Oh Harry.'_

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you said that," Kara laughed.<p>

"What? All I said was that I thought he would be cuter if he cut his hair," Amanda replied innocently.

The two girls walked side by side down Main Street in Smallville. What had started as preparation for their school's summer project quickly turned into gossip, then they decided they needed a break.

"I won't be surprised if you see Bill tomorrow with his head shaved bald. He's been crushing on you since the beginning of the year." Kara couldn't help but giggle at the mental image.

Amanda blushed. "You think so? Really?"

Kara bumped her with her hip. "C'mon, it's obvious he likes you. How can you not see it?" That set off another round of soft giggles.

"Aren't you glad that you decided to hang out with me instead of going out of town? A girl needs to hang out with her girlfriends during the summer." Kara frowned.

"I think that I should at least visit. You know I have that summer job and I won't be able to-" She was cut off by a squeal.

"Look, it's Tom. He's so dreamy," Amanda exclaimed with a breathy sigh. Walking down the sidewalk was a group of boys. At the lead was a boy with dirty blonde hair, who was heading right towards them. Kara blushed at the sight of him.

"I knew it. You _liiike _him. Oh, here he comes." Amanda shoved her into the boy's path.

Kara blushed again. "Hi! Ahem. Hi…Tom."

"Hey, Kara. What's up?" He grinned at her.

"Nothi…well, I – I mean, me and Amanda-" Her rambling was cut-off by one of his friends.

"Tom, the game starts in five minutes. You can try to ask Kent on a date later." Kara screamed at herself in her head as she blushed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Thankfully, Amanda saved her from further embarrassment.

"Well, boys, we wouldn't want to keep you from that all important game. Besides we still need to do some more gossiping."

_**July 29 1992 Morning  
>Diagon Alley, London, England<strong>_

Harry stood in front of the display with a dreamy look on his face.

"That's not why we're here, Harry. If that were the case then we would've just gone to Edward's Square," Bruce said calmly, pulling his son away from the display.

"But Dad!" Harry whined. "Look at it, it's amazing. Fastest broom ever made. It blows last year's model away. C'mon, you said I could have one this year. Maybe even try out for the team."

Harry began to daydream, only to shaken out of it when his father pulled him down the cobblestone street. Harry sighed and looked forward and spotted their destination - the majestic marble bank, Gringotts.

The alley was packed with people looking for supplies, children running pas the stores and muggleborn families walking round in awe.

Bruce tapped his fingers on his leg before he caught himself. Growing up in a life of privilege he was not accustomed to waiting in line, usually being the first served. This realization annoyed him.

"Next," a gruff voice called out. Being next in line, Harry and Bruce stepped up to the counter and faced a disinterested goblin.

The goblin sat on a high chair, counting coins and piling gems, not bothering to look up. "What is your business in Gringotts?"

"We would like to speak to a bank representative," Bruce said.

The goblin didn't hesitate. "Bank representatives are only called upon in unique situations. They do not deal with the general populace. I will be able to take care of your banking needs."

"I can assure you that this situation is well out of the ordinary and I cannot speak about it out here." The tone of Bruce's voice made the goblin look up. A moment passed as the goblin stared, searching for any hint of deception. With a sigh of exasperation, he slammed his hand on the bell on the counter summoning another goblin.

"Ragestone here will escort you to one of our private rooms. If your business is deemed petty you will be charged a fee." With that he began counting his coins again.

The walk to the room was quick. Their escort waited until they were seated before leaving the room. A few minutes later they were joined by another occupied looking goblin.

Once it was been seated behind the ornate desk, it turned it eyes upward and asked Bruce, "Well? Speak."

With an arched eyebrow that wasn't at all forced, Bruce began. "We are here to see if my son has any vaults left to him." This was, apparently, the wrong thing to start with.

"Trash! Every week I get some piece of trash wasting my time hoping to be the heir to some long defunct family. Hoping to inherit some gold. Get out. This is not a dire situation. You will have to schedule an appointment with one of the tellers and wait for a date." It started to walk back through the door.

"You would understand if you had allowed me to finish," Bruce said with disdain.

The goblin turned and bared his teeth. "Speak well, _human_. My patience runs thin."

Bruce looked at Harry and made up his mind. "My son came to me when he was four years old. I was told that he might have had some items left to him from his birth parents. Things he could look through."

"And who were his birth parents?"

Harry entered the conversation for the first time. "James and Lily Potter."

The goblin's faced turned to stone. "James and Lily Potter had one child, who died Christmas Day, Nineteen Eighty-Four. You should have come up with a more realistic story." It headed towards the door. "If you are done wasting my time."

"I am! There has to be a way to prove it." Harry pleaded.

The goblin sighed dangerously, asking for patience before he spoke. "There is a test. Be warned, I am bound by the law to turn you over to the aurors if you are proven to be liars. The ministry does not suffer imposters lightly." With another sigh he retook his seat and reached its hand out.

He waved his hand in an impatient manner when Harry just looked at him. "Don't waste my time, boy. Give me your hand."

Harry leant over the desk and placed his hand in the goblin's palm. He winced when it was turned over roughly and a sharp dagger was drawn. Bruce's chair screeched when he stood and reached for his son.

"Be calm. I need test his blood to see if he is in fact the son of James and Lily Potter. It will only hurt for a short time then you can wrap it." Without warning he pushed the tip of the dagger into the middle of Harry's palm and twisted, causing Harry to cry out. And as quick as it started it was over and Harry cradled his hand to his chest while Bruce wrapped it in a handkerchief.

"Let's see here." The goblin stabbed the blade into a sheet of parchment and watched as glyphs appeared on the paper. No words were spelled out that Bruce could understand but he heard when the goblin sucked in a loud breath.

"You are supposed to be dead." The goblin looked at Harry with what only be described as passing intrigue.

Bruce answered for him. "The details aren't important. My son would like to know more about the people that gave their lives to protect his. Is there any information you can give us that can't be read about in the books for sale up the road?"

The bank rep's eyes flicked up to Harry's forehead before turning to Bruce. "Earl Potter of Kent is the last of his family. Most of what the Potters were can now be read about in books, as you said. There may be some personal effects in their vault."

"Why did you keep the vault if you thought I was dead?" Harry asked.

"Are you insinuating that Gringotts knew you were alive?" the goblin asked with a scowl.

"It's not as if we have little sensors telling us when someone has died. That would be absurd. It is not our job to see to it that the vaults are passed down." He wrapped up the parchment. "Many different families have come here claiming a close blood relation in order to seize control of the vaults. Each time they were turned away due to the lack of validity of their claims."

"And what happens to the money if no one claims it?" Bruce asked.

"Gringotts deducts a fee for every inactive account. The longer it is inactive, the higher the fee. In time the Potter vault would've been empty." Bruce could hear the disappointment in his voice.

"And the title?" Bruce asked. "I know what it means to the wider world but what about here?"

"Your son's is not the only noble family, just one of the highest ranking. Many families have titles for service to the queen and so on. It counts for nothing except respect. There are no special privileges included. The wizarding world does not hold royal favor in as high regard as the muggles do."

Harry nodded and stood up, ready to leave.

"I'm trusting that this conversation will stay between us. We don't want any attention from the press or the public."

"These affairs have nothing to do with Gringotts. If it does break, it will not be from a goblin."

* * *

><p>The meeting at the bank was still running through Harry's head as he and his father walked through Diagon Alley. His thoughts were still racing when he was shoved suddenly into his father.<p>

A caustic drawl hung in the air. "This isn't America, Wayne. We have rules in civilized society."

Bruce placed a restraining hand on Harry's shoulder when he noticed his son's hands ball into fists at his sides. "I'm sure it was an accident."

Draco looked at Bruce and sneered. He was about to open his mouth, to say something derogatory, when a snake handle cane came to rest on his shoulder.

"There is no need to be unfriendly, Draco." Lucius Malfoy stepped forward.

"This must be the Mr. Wayne that you've told me so much about," He looked Bruce up and down. "Ah, and his father."

Bruce kept a hand on Harry and extended a hand forward. With a grin born from years of dealing with the press, he said, "Bruce Wayne."

Lucius raised an eyebrow at the gesture and drawled, "Lucius Malfoy, it's a pleasure."

"If you will excuse us, I promised Draco we would look at a broom for his upcoming year after we finished some errands. Enjoy your time here." With that clear dismissal, he used a heavy hand on Draco's shoulder to guide him towards the bookstore.

Harry shared a long look with his father before their attention was pulled back to the Malfoys the sounds of a scuffle.

Lucius Malfoy was wrestling with a balding red haired man in the middle of the street, both families watching on.

"Arthur! Set a better example for the children. Stop them, Hagrid."

The fight ended abruptly when Hagrid grabbed them both by their collars and held up off the ground. Lucius sneered and pulled free. He took a step closer to the Weasley family, his eyes set on their young daughter.

"Don't come any closer to my daughter, Malfoy," Arthur Weasley shouted while pulling free of Hagrid. He placed himself in front of his children who had formed a wall of young, angry faces.

The alley watched as the refined head of the Malfoy family grabbed his son by the neck and marched him off in a fit.

_**August 13 1992 Late Evening  
>Chateau de Terre, France<strong>_

"Hello Flink."

"Mr. Dubbydorr. Right this way." The elderly elf walked briskly in front of Dumbledore, leading him through a simple two-story house in southern France. Remarkable in its simplicity, it housed two of the world's most famous magicians since Merlin.

Flink led him to a room at the far end of the hall and popped away. It was with a heavy heart that Albus knocked softly and opened the door when he heard a soft, "Enter."

"Ahh, Albus. I hoped you would make it in time. I feared we would miss each other in these last minutes," an ancient voice creaked from inside the room.

"Nick, my good friend. I am so very sorry I could not do more." Albus took a seat at the bedside of Nicolas Flamel and his wife, Perenelle.

"It is not your fault. It seems that age had finally caught up with us." He chuckled at his own joke. "I must say that I am not terribly upset it has, it was becoming a bit of a bore." Nick coughed, shaking his wife out of her doze.

"Albus, it is so wonderful to see you again," Perenelle whispered. She, like her husband, had aged heavily in the weeks since they had been told their stone was damaged beyond repair. She extended her hand toward Dumbledore.

Albus reached over and grabbed it, dropping his head for a kiss. "Believe me, the pleasure is all mine."

He struggled to hold down his grief and the guilt he felt for his role in their deaths. The events surrounding the end of the school year had left the Philosopher's Stone contaminated by dark magic. Instead of the Elixir of Life it now produced a deadly poison and rather than turn metal into gold it made it decay before their eyes.

"I had Flink call you because I think tonight is the night. Penny and I wanted to see a friend as we passed into the next life and no one has been closer to us than you." Perenelle had released Dumbledore's hand and gone back to the light sleep she was in when he first arrived.

Dumbledore's eyes started to mist. In the terrible years since Harry Potter's passing, he had kept no friend as loyal as the Nicolas and Perenelle.

"I will miss you. I have seen much and yet I could never hope to experience what you have." He began to feel the twitch of the ancient man's hand.

"No Albus. It is I that that should be proud to call you my friend. I worked in my lab and forgot the world. I have seen dictators rise, countries fall and people die, and I have never tried to participate. I was always watching. You have done what I could not. You acted!" The vigor in his speech shook his body.

"I have done terrible things in pursuit of a _good_ I cannot achieve. Families torn apart because I was too hasty, too _foolish_ and my ignorance led directly to the death of an innocent boy."

Dumbledore could feel the despair rising. Images of a blue face and the sound of shrieking threatened to overwhelm him. A coughing fit pulled him out of his thoughts.

After the tremors had stopped, Nicolas spoke, "We have all done things we regret but you have done so much good. In a time when the brave fled or sons betrayed their families, you stood and fought. The wizarding world would have been long since lost if you had not made a stand."

Nicolas pointed at the wall, focusing on a picture of Famel and two young men. Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald, two notable youths stood smiling on either side of their mentor.

"As Penny has always told you, 'It is hard standing up for what is right and even harder standing up to a friend." His withered hand rested on his chest.

Dumbledore was still torn. "How can I ever repay a debt for destroying something priceless?"

"There is no way to undo what had been done but you can try to make sure it never happens again. That starts by forgiving yourself."

The wizened headmaster shook his head, not believing that he was allowed redemption. He knew there was no atonement for the lives lost while in his command.

"No. There is no forgiveness for the murderers of children. The wizarding world needs a leader that will not get them killed. Someone who does not have innocent blood on their hands." His sorrow turned to pain when the hand he was holding became viselike in its grip.

"No! They will need you now more than ever. I may be absent from the world but I can still hear. They grow complacent. They look at the world with misplaced fear and they become violent. The signs are there. This dark lord has not been vanquished and his followers will rise to his call once again. Do not lose yourself to despair, Albus. They will need you."

Perenelle exhaled deeply from next to her husband; her body going still. Her husband's eyes flooded with tears.

Nicolas turned towards his wife. "Goodbye my love. You will not need to wait long for me." He pulled her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the heel of her palm.

"I am sorry that I will not be here to help you through it. I fear the next war will be more terrible than the last," Nicolas said. "Be strong Albus. Keep faith."

Using his last breath for his final words, Nicolas Flamel slowly closed his eyes and passed away, his hands still joined with his wife's.

Dumbledore stared. Nicolas Flamel had been around long before him and he had thought the alchemist would survive long after he was gone. He couldn't help but be shocked at the sight of the ancient couple lying in their deathbed.

"Flink."

The elf popped into existence at the foot of the bed. It placed its hand on its master foot and shook it softly. It hiccupped a sob and looked at the headmaster.

Dumbledore wiped away a tear. "I know you will look after them while I arrange the funeral." He waited for the subdued nod before leaving the room.

_**August 26 1992 Late Morning  
>Island of Themyscira, Location Unkown<strong>_

Diana breathed in the salty ocean air of her native island. Since leaving Themyscira she had come to love the wider world but nothing compared to coming home again. With Harry getting ready to go back to school and leave home for another four months, she took the opportunity and visited her mother.

After landing the Javelin on the beach, Diana changed into the traditional garb of her people. A simple white tunic with sandals was all that was needed for the beautiful weather the island experienced.

Her mother's palace was a grand building built in white marble. Sitting on the crown of the tallest hill, it surveyed the canyon where their city thrived. With a view of the sea and the surrounding mountains, it was a perfect place to relax. Her mother had it built especially so she could enjoy the views that the location had to offer.

Diana looked around, glad to be home. Swords clanging, orders being shouted; the loud noise made her feel at peace. Even though they trained regularly, the Amazons had not been in a war since they had moved to Themyscira, thousands of years ago. Greeting her sisters, Diana continued on into the throne room.

Sitting on her throne and not having aged a day was Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons and Diana's mother.

"Hello Diana." Diana smiled and walked forward to embrace her mother.

"Hello Mother."

Queen Hippolyta had led the Amazons for more than two millennia. Beginning her reign while she and her sisters were all still mortal, she had ruled the island of Themyscira after being rewarded with immortality by the gods. Nothing changed until she was blessed with her daughter, Diana. She ruled in peace until "man's world" found its way back into their lives.

"You look well Diana. I see that spending time with that detective of yours seems to agree with you." And like a teenager hearing her mother talk about her first boyfriend, Diana couldn't help the blush that appeared on her face.

"Bruce is doing well, Mother." Diana turned to look out the open window, enjoying the breeze through her hair.

"And his son?" Diana raised an eyebrow. This was a point that she had argued with her mother over. It had made Hippolyta scowl when she heard her daughter had entered into a relationship with a man but that was nothing to the fact that Diana accepted responsibility for his son as well.

"Our son is doing well." She made sure to look her mother in the eyes when she continued. "Harry is as much mine as he is Bruce's."

Hippolyta was taken aback. She knew of the time her daughter was spending in Gotham City. Every visit was filled with stories about her life in the League, her relationship with Bruce Wayne and her ever-increasing fondness for the man's son. But to hear the declaration come out of her daughter's mouth astonished her.

"I have been with Harry since the moment Bruce met him. I've been there through every new tooth, nightmare and smile and I don't ever see that changing. That is what being a mother is, right?"

Hippolyta could only nod.

Diana lips tried to smother the full-blown smile that was threatening to erupt on her face. "Harry calls me mom. It began when he came home from school and every time I hear him say it, I can't stop smiling. Mother, it feels great."

Hippolyta stared out of the window. It was a few minutes before she cleared her throat. "None of us have raised a male child in thousands of years. Your sisters will not be pleased to hear this, Diana."

Diana crossed her arms defensively. "That doesn't concern me, Mother."

Hippolyta nodded. "The opinion's of others never has, has it? Yes. Well. When do I get to meet them? If they are that important to you, then surely I should be allowed a chance to see for myself how special they are."

Diana could only stare wide-eyed. She knew exactly what her mother was asking for. The idea of the Queen of the Amazons leaving the island to visit anywhere in the world would have been laughed at by any woman on the island. That left only one other possible route left.

"You want them to come here?" Diana asked incredulously.

Hippolyta raised an eyebrow. "Why is that so hard to believe? I am your mother. Should I not be allowed to meet the one you call a son or the man you have chosen to be your partner? It is not the first time that men have walked through our home. That pilot of yours walked through our land after falling from the sky."

Diana blushed furiously at the implication in her mother's words. But the idea of showing her home to Bruce and her son was inviting.

"Harry goes back to school in a few days so it wouldn't be until Christmas."

Hippolyta cleared her throat, her face showing her disdain for the modern name of the ancient ritual. "Yes. The Winter Solstice sounds like a wonderful time for them to visit. The Amazons will welcome your family to our home, daughter."

_**August 31 1992 Late Evening  
>Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England<strong>_

Draco walked hesitantly towards his father study.

Since the fight he witnessed in Diagon Alley, his father had become more and more sullen. The bad temper had fluctuated between bouts of extreme anger and brooding. What was worse was Draco didn't get the broom he was hoping for.

Now, after being informed by one the family's elves that his father required his presence, Draco couldn't help but feel nervous about what his father wanted so late at night. He didn't have much time to reflect and found himself standing at the door separating him and who knew what.

Draco knocked softly, hoping that it would go unheard, and was relieved when he didn't hear anything at first.

"Enter."

Draco bowed his head and pushed his way through the door. Sitting alone at his desk, sipping an amber liquid and watching the fire, was his father.

"Father?"

"I am very disappointed in you, Draco. I have heard stories from Professor Snape about a conflict with someone in your own house, a mudblood in fact, and none of them are very flattering."

"And today, I had a very important goal in going to Diagon Alley and was waylaid because you thought it was an appropriate time to harass the mudblood you dislike."

Draco began to fume. He had only done what his father had taught him. The mudbloods in Hogwarts needed to be taught respect. He had been disrespected too many times and, as a Malfoy, he wouldn't stand for it. His father had to understand that.

Lucius turned from the fire and towards his son, with anger in his eyes. "Answer me."

The elder Malfoy had asked a question while Draco was lost in his thoughts.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

Draco bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Father."

"Fortunately, I have come up with a solution." Lucius stepped away from his desk and approached the shelves filled with books that lined the walls. He carefully examined the titles and plucked one old, leather bound book from the rest and carefully set it down on his desk.

"The Weasleys have decided to barge into affairs they have no business commenting on. Arthur Weasley is pushing a muggle-protection bill that would make many of the things we enjoy illegal. This book would ruin him."

Draco lifted the book in his hands and examined it. He reached to open the cover only to have his father's hand close around his.

"You are to give the book to the youngest Weasley; the girl that we saw at the bookstore. You are to make sure she has it in her possession before you get off the train at Hogwarts. You are to do so without her knowing it was from you." Then his eyes became serious. "And you are to never open the book, under any circumstances. I will know if you do and I will make sure to show you my displeasure."

Draco gulped and nodded franticly.

"Go to bed. I would like to get to the platform with you well rested."

* * *

><p>At a quarter to eleven, Draco scanned the platform, the book resting in his robe.<p>

The Weasley family had yet to arrive and the platform was getting less crowded. It would be suspicious for the Malfoys to linger any longer. They couldn't say they were waiting for anyone and Lucius made a decision.

He glanced around before speaking to Draco. "Get on the train. Make sure that you look for the Weasley girl before you stop at Hogwarts. Remember what I said about not letting anyone see you with it. Not Parkinson's girl and definitely not Crabbe and Goyle."

Draco pouted, a little putout that he couldn't tell his friends that he was helping his father get rid of mudbloods.

"If you do this right, we can force Dumbledore out of Hogwarts."

"I understand. I'll do it right, Father."

Draco boarded the train and sat in a compartment with his friends, waiting for an opportune time to go searching.

"I need to go to the bathroom." His excuse was barely heard in the noise his friends were making.

He walked down the hall, spotting a few flashes of red but none of them belonging to the Weasley girl.

Draco was beginning to grow impatient when he heard voice tinged with annoyance behind him.

"Are you going to stand there all day, Malfoy, or are you going to move. You're not the only person using the corridor and not all of us like to dawdle."

Sneer firmly in place, Draco turned to confront the voice's owner. "I don't remember asking you or giving you permission to speak in my presence, Granger. Mudbloods like you are good for one thing but," he looked her up and down, "you don't seem old enough to warm someone's bed yet."

Draco smirked at his victory and the outraged flush that came over Hermione's face when a memory played in his mind.

"_You're barely able to do magic."_

The thought of someone embarrassing a Malfoy, let alone some mudblood, was enough to make him seethe. As if it were a fresh wound, Draco stepped forward and ripped open her bag, scattering books all over the floor.

"Get off!" Hermione struggled to loosen his grip. "You'll be in trouble when I get a prefect."

Draco ignored her, the books on the floor catching his eye. An idea crossed his mind.

He let Hermione pull free and bent down to scoop up a few of her books.

"Stopping at Flourish & Blotts a lot this summer? My father used to tell me that there was a time when they wouldn't allow any of the mudblood to even walk through Diagon Alley when a pureblood was present," Draco said as he flipped through the pages of each book.

"Give that back, Malfoy."

Draco held the book above his head, out of her reach. Instead of struggling Hermione began to gather her other books, never noticing Draco reach into his robes as she stuffed them into her torn bag. As she turned to pick up the last book Draco shoved her form behind, forcing her to her knees.

Draco sneered. "That's where you belong." He dropped the books on her shoulder and marched off. The pleased smile never left his face.

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	15. A Muddled Mind

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics

A/N: I'm back. Before all of you start blowing up my Private Messaging, I will say something here. Like I told everyone before I have been traveling for the last half year. When one has the option of going to the beach and hanging out with half naked Spanish women, one does not pass it up to sit behind a computer. Simple truth is, I had something better to do. Don't write reviews scolding me, I don't care. I meant what I said, this story will never be abandoned. The next one is almost halfway done and I foresee it being up in the next two weeks. Sidenote - Paris has the best underground train system I've ever seen.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: A Muddled Mind<strong>

_**September 1 1992 Evening  
>Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

Walking into Hogwarts didn't bring the same level of excitement to Harry as it had done the year before. Everything that should have comforted him or made him gape in awe only reminded him of meeting Voldemort.

'_I have to stop thinking about that. I made my choice not to tell Mom and Dad. I wish I were able to talk to Kara. She didn't even . . .' _He shook his head, not wanting to think about Kara's absence over the summer.

Professor McGonagall's entrance interrupted his thoughts as she led the first years towards the Sorting Hat.

Daphne's voice turned his head. "I can't believe we have to watch this for the next six years. They should do this in private and just send them out to eat."

Harry smiled, his sour mood broken. "Maybe you should bring that to the Headmaster's attention."

That caused her to smile. "Yeah, I can see it now, 'Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore. I know we have a thousand year tradition but some of us want to eat and not watch scared eleven year olds put on a hat'. I'm sure he would consider it."

The sound of McGonagall placing the stool in front of the Head Table pulled their attention back to the sorting. The first name was called and the Sorting began. As it went on, no one was surprised that Hufflepuff and Gryffindor had welcomed all of the muggleborns into their houses but it was the last name that made the applause and chattering stop.

Ginny Weasley rolled her eyes as she handed the sorting hat back to Professor McGonagall and confidently made her way to the Slytherin table. Harry vaguely remembered her from his first visit to Diagon Alley. She was tiny but the staring didn't make her nervous.

McGonagall picked up the Hat and took the stool away. Harry noticed some people actually pointing at the newest Slytherin.

Harry ignored them and the headmaster as he started speaking and turned to Daphne, saying, "Well, that was weird."

"Yeah, I've never heard of a Weasley ever being sorted out of Gryffindor. Let alone into Slytherin." Daphne stared at the small redhead sitting alone in the middle of the table.

Harry's attention though was fixed on Malfoy, who was turning red the longer he stared at the new girl.

"Why is Malfoy turning into a tomato?" Harry turned to Daphne.

She shrugged. "He's probably fuming that a Weasley is sitting at _his _table."

"Why? She isn't a muggleborn."

"She's from a family of blood traitors though. That's almost worse. The Death Eaters targeted them, too. And the Weasleys," she nodded to the girl now pointedly ignoring Malfoy's glare, "are the biggest muggle supporters out there."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Death Eaters?"

"You-Know-Who's followers. Rumor had it that Lucius Malfoy was a top lieutenant. It would stand to reason that he would raise his son that way."

Harry stared. How had it never occurred to him before? Voldemort had set out to purify the wizarding world, rid it of all those he thought were unworthy to practice magic. He had heard that line several times since he arrived at Hogwarts. _'His father helped Voldemort hunt my family down. What will he do when he finds out that he isn't dead?'_

The glare Malfoy focusedon the Weasley girl melted into a malicious laugh at something Nott said. Harry listened to the mocking laugh. A stone settling in his stomach at the thought about how Voldemort's followers would react if they found out that _he_ was alive . . . and that Harry Potter was too.

_**September 4 1992 Midnight  
>Batcave, Gotham City<strong>_

Tired from a night spent tracking a murderer through the Narrows, Bruce sat in front of his computer, lost in thought. For months now he'd been concerned about Harry and letting him explore a world that was almost inaccessible to him.

Nothing had worked, not cutting edge satellite imaging or state-of-the-art sensors. All he had were pictures of London and the Scottish countryside from the satellites and static and broken equipment from the sensors. On the ground exploration was stymied by centuries old spellwork, despite his best efforts. That left his son and wanderlust-infected childhood friend as his only link to the magical world.

He opened the video link to Zatanna, looking for a briefing on the favor he had asked of her.

"I was just about to call you." Zatanna's voice echoed through the cave.

"What have you found out, Zee?"

"I checked around, spoke to some people who are very discreet and owed me some favors but no one has heard of anything happening at Hogwarts. And I'v-" But Bruce didn't let her finish.

"And about Harry?"

"Bruce, if anyone had heard that Harry Potter was still alive I wouldn't need to go on a fact finding mission. They would be shouting it in the streets." She paused, studying Bruce for a moment. "Have you asked Harry why he's been so quiet all summer?"

"I have. He only said that he missed his friends."

"Why don't you believe him then? I know Kara was pretty busy these past few months; add that to not seeing any of his magical friends and it had to have been a pretty lonely summer."

"Yes." But Bruce wasn't buying it. He had worked hard tracking down leads and knew when he was being lied to. The knot in his stomach only grew when he thought of the scenarios that would make Harry draw into himself. He was too deep in his thoughts to do anything more than bid her farewell as she ended the link.

"Harry, what is going on with you?" Bruce mused out loud. He wouldn't get far as a soft _tsk_ broke his train of thought. "Something on your mind, Alfred?"

The elderly butler, pristine even at the late hour, raised an eyebrow. "Nothing important Master Bruce, just lamenting over the hypocrisy that you seem to be indulging in."

Whatever advice or criticism Bruce was expecting, it wasn't that. His voice tight, Bruce asked, "Do you care to explain or did you just come down here to insult me?"

"I have seen you go through some of the most horrific experiences that a person can go through, both as a child and as a man and there hasn't been a time where I didn't want to beg you to give it up this quest and lead a normal life."

"What does this have to do with Harry?"

"Young Master Harry is not out fighting dangerous criminals, he is not risking his body in a crusade to keep safe a city that does not want it. He is simply trying to find out who he is. Even if he loves you with all his heart, there are some questions you cannot answer for him."

Bruce sat at his computer with a dark look on his face. He had never thought that Alfred was happy with his nighttime activities but the old butler had never voiced his objections beyond chidings to be careful.

Alfred didn't allow him to gather his thoughts. "I may not like how you go about living life. How you dedicate your life to your parents' memory is more than dangerous, it's reckless but I stand by you, to protect you. And I am doing it the only way I know how, by being there for you when you need it. Helping you in your mission is the only way to keep you safe. Maybe you should think on that while you consider what to do with Master Harry."

The older man turned on his heel and briskly walked out of the cave.

_**September 9 1992 Morning  
>Slytherin Common Room, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain <strong>_

"_The Manhunters must be stopped. This is not what we had in mind when we devoted ourselves to this mission." One voice could be heard in the silence. He stood against the destruction that was being perpetrated around the universe. _

"_They hunt all that they deem guilty, with no respect for justice or law. My brothers, we have created these beings and it is our duty to stop them."_

_One of his brothers rose from his seat. "We see no way to end this threat. We have made them to be mighty. We are few and they are many. How can we hope to defeat our creations in battle?"_

"_We were mistaken when we thought that we could make robots and they would understand the meaning of justice and peace. They have no compassion and no understanding; they only know how to follow objectives and the Manhunters have taken their orders and now slaughter whoever they see fit. Living beings understand the mercy for the weak, only they can judge their peers, only they can stand and defend this threat that we have created."_

_Another voice spoke from among the Guardians. "How can they stand against the Manhunters? Where will they find the might to stand against the unyielding mission of the robots?"_

_The one known as Ganthet clapped his hand and an image materialized behind him. The Council was bathed in green light as more than one of them furrowed their brow in confusion. _

_Ganthet spoke loudly, "We shall do so with the power of will."_

Harry woke with a start. It was early and the dream was already fading from his mind. The only thing that remained was the clear, bright green light but it wasn't the same green light that had made his heart race and sweat to break out. It pulsed with a power that, if any one were watching over his dozing form as he relaxed further into sleep, would have seen emit from his body before it slowly died and darkness once again filled the room.

"Wayne, if you don't get your head out of your arse you'll miss the tryouts!"

Harry, sitting near the fire in the common room, startled so badly he upended his cup all over himself. The cold water chilled him and the only thing that broke through the feeling of dampness seeping through his pants was the snort coming from his friend.

"Thank you so very much, Daphne," Harry called as he hobbled up the stairs.

Daphne waved over her shoulder and walked towards the exit of the common room. "Don't spend too much time up there. The tryouts start in a few minutes."

He had barely made it to the pitch when Flint called for all of the new players to line up. He clutched his broom tightly, anxiously waiting for his turn to ride.

"I like the team that I put together. Puglist decided to hang up his broom after missing the snitch last year. We are only going to be trying out for the position of seeker. If you're not here for that, get off the pitch." Flint watched as more than half of the hopefuls walked off with their brooms.

Harry looked around and found that only four remained. Two fourth years, Malfoy and himself. He almost wished he hadn't looked around because as soon as he made eye contact Malfoy's sneering face morphed into a smirk as he strutted over.

"Well, well, well. What are you doing here, Wayne? Everyone knows that the spot is mine. I even bought a new broom for this year." He held out his shiny new broom. The words _'Nimbus Two Thousand' _were etched in gold on the handle.

"Besides, quidditch is a sport I've been raised doing. A mudblood like you couldn't be better than me."

"Wayne! Malfoy! You're next. Kick off. First one to get the snitch flies against Harper for the spot," Flint called from the air.

Harry looked at Malfoy, swinging his broom into view. A dark brown handle that led to charcoal grey bristles. _'Geschwind' _was written clearly on its handle.

They kicked off after the snitch was released. Draco ignored the snitch and immediately began to try and intimidate Harry by flying past him at top speeds, buffeting him and forcing him to make sharp turns to avoid collisions.

After the third pass by Harry, the crowd went up in a roar and both seekers turned to see a flash of gold near the unoccupied teacher stands. Turning their brooms, both Slytherins shot off after it.

Malfoy gained the upper hand quickly. A well-timed bump pushed Harry off course enough to pull ahead. The snitch, almost sensing it was being chased, zipped off. Going through tight turns and right angle corners, they raced around the pitch.

Pulling within reach, Harry and Malfoy battled for a clear shot for the win when the snitch changed course and backtracked over their heads.

Harry saw his chance and pulled his body hard to the left. Harry pulled his broom through a tight corkscrew around Malfoy, catching the snitch.

The applause was scattered, led by Daphne who clapped politely with a smile on her face.

Harry landed, gripping the snitch tight and enjoying the beat of its wings on his fingers. He looked up and watched, amused, as Flint eyed him with new interest.

"That's impossible!" Draco Malfoy landed just between Harry and Flint. "The snitch flew right to him. I was beating him the entire way."

Flint's eyes stayed on Harry. "How long have you been flying that broom, Wayne?"

"My father bought it for me this summer," Harry answered.

"And you're a muggleborn?" Harry nodded.

Flint turned to Malfoy; "A muggleborn just pulled a corkscrew around you, catching the snitch in the process. Get off the pitch."

Draco sneered and Harry couldn't resist a parting shot. "I think it was the broom, Malfoy."

_**September 18 1992 Late Night  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

Gotham was quiet.

The League had all quashed any immediate threats to the planet's safety.

Bruce and Diana had spent the day relaxing around the house while Alfred enjoyed one of his rare days off. No one knew where the old butler went or what he did with his free time but he had threatened Bruce with dire trouble if he even suspected he was being followed. They ended the peaceful day lying in bed holding each other.

"Bruce, are you awake?" Diana whispered softly.

"Hmm." He rolled over, eyes still closed but pulling her closer.

Diana rubbed her thumb over his lips. She had to ask. The relationship was already too far along to pull out now and she had never wanted to keep her two worlds apart. Not when she had to work so hard to convince Bruce to let his meet.

She took a deep breath. "I want you to meet my Mother."

Diana let out a sigh of relief. She was glad to get it out in the open. Diana lay there quietly, watching Bruce process the request.

"When?" His response was just as quiet.

Diana let the smile on her face spread. "Christmas. She wants to meet the both of you. She said it was only right."

"I'll make sure to clear out schedule for the holidays then."

"She wants us to go to her." All she got was a raised eyebrow in response.

"Your mother, the Queen of the Amazons, whose hatred for men is literally legendary, wants your son and live in boyfriend to go to Themiscyra?" There was a hint of incredulity in his tone.

She huffed. "Yes, you two will be the only two men ever invited onto the island. Try not to let it go to your head."

Diana rolled over, the idea of Bruce and Harry meeting her mother running through her head. She didn't settle down until Bruce wrapped his arms around her.

He smiled into her hair. He had been searching for weeks and it seemed that fate would provide the perfect opportunity.

_**September 30 1992 Late Afternoon  
>Ministry of Magic, London, England, Great Britain<strong>_

Lucius Malfoy walked confidently into the room, claiming the seat as if it was his.

"Lucius? How are you? What brings you here on a day like today?" Fudge said.

"I am doing well, Minister. I am here to discuss some things I have heard about Hogwarts from my son that troubled me."

Cornelius frowned. "Oh? What's happened at the school? I've just spoken to Albus yesterday; he didn't tell me anything was wrong."

Malfoy frowned as if the news disappointed him. "Yes, I don't expect the headmaster to admit to it. He hasn't been the same since poor Mr. Potter passed away all those years ago." He inspected the head of his snake cane. "Cornelius, I fear that Dumbledore may be too old to lead our prestigious school."

"Lucius, Albus has been the headmaster of Hogwarts since before either of us were born. He hasn't shown anything that might make me think he can't handle the ability to watch over our children."

The blonde benefactor sighed through his nose. He tried to control his temper, which was getting increasingly difficult. Draco had written to him barely a week into the school year, telling him that the deed was done and the diary was in play. Lucius only had to wait for news to start coming out of Hogwarts and then he could play his hand and have Dumbledore removed from his post.

"Draco told me that the school was put on a security lockdown last year. The story going around the school was that the gameskeeper, Hagrid, was keeping a dragon in his shack." He enjoyed the way the minister's eyes widened.

"The teachers spent the rest of the day removing the scorch marks and gouges in the ground from where it escaped," Lucius said in a shocked voice.

Fudge regained some measure of control over himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Lucius, I don't know how much stock I can put in school children gossiping. I'm sure the ministry would have heard of a dragon escaping from the grounds of Hogwarts."

Fudge placed his glasses on the desk, pushing back to stretch. "But I will keep a closer eye on Hogwarts if it worries you so much. Though, I suspect that there's nothing to this other than rumors created by the overactive imaginations of children." He stood, grabbing his bowler hat and walked to the door.

"Come. My wife will be upset if I'm late for dinner again and I'm sure Narcissa has an excellent meal waiting for you at home."

Jaw tight, Lucius nodded and joined him at the door. "Yes, Minister. I hope you're right. I would never be able to live with myself if something were to happen to the children at the school."

_**October 4 1992 Late Evening  
>Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

She had been confused when she first found it.

The only explanation that she could come up with was that it had been included in her purchases at Flourish and Blotts by accident but even that didn't make sense.

'_Why would they sell an old journal?'_

Hermione sat at the table she often used and pondered the mystery of the old journal. She knew its origins weren't really important but she disliked not knowing something, even something as trivial as this.

The manufacturing date said it was almost fifty years old. And who was Tom Marvolo Riddle?

Deciding that staring at the journal wasn't going to help, Hermione put aside her curiosity. There was much to do. The school year was more than a monthold and she hadn't yet put together a study schedule.

Putting quill to paper, she inscribed:

**Hermione Granger's Study Schedule**

Just as she finished writing the word _Potions_, the ink faded into the page and it was left as blank as she found it. What happened next made her freeze.

"_Hello Hermione, do you enjoy potions?" _The words slowly appeared on the page.

She considered the magic involved in an object that could respond to her but her curiosity spurred her on. _"Who are you? What are you?"_ she wrote.

The ink from her words had barely faded when it responded. "_My name is Tom. I used to own this journal."_

_**October 6 1992 Morning  
>Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

Harry walked into the Great Hall and took his customary seat next to Daphne. He nodded greeting to Blaise who sat down the table reading a copy of the paper. Daphne hadn't noticed his presence, her eyes still on the letter she still clutched in her hand. By the time Harry had piled food onto his plate she was folding the letter and putting it in her robe.

"News from home?" Harry asked.

She scooped up some eggs before responding to him. "My mother just wants to make sure I feel involved so she shared some stories about my sister."

Harry stopped chewing and turned to his friend. "You have a sister? Why didn't I know that?"

Daphne only turned her head slightly, raising an eyebrow. "You never asked Wayne. I'm not in the business of telling my life story to everyone I meet."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're not in the business of talking," he muttered under his breath. And just like he expected, she ignored him and continued eating her meal. "So . . . this sister, she's younger, right? How young?"

"Who said she was younger? Maybe she's older and I'm the baby of the family."

Harry snorted. "Well, usually younger siblings are carefree because they are always looked after. I can barely get you to tell me anything about your life before Hogwarts but even I can tell you don't really qualify as the 'youngest child'."

He could see the twitch of her lips. "Well done, Wayne. With a deduction like that, you may be the world's greatest detective."

Harry grinned. "I get it from my dad."

Daphne sighed. "Yes, she is two years younger. She'll be here next year."

Harry waited. When she didn't volunteer any more information he asked, "Does she have a name?"

She didn't look up from her plate but responded with a quick, "Astoria."

Harry smiled. He was not usually one to find amusement in the discomfort of others but he enjoyed pushing Daphne and pulling information from her when she didn't want to talk. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

All he received in return was a soft snort.

"So what house do you think she will get sorted into? Is she a lowly snake like us or something more rebellious," he faked a gasp, "like a Gryffindor?"

Daphne smacked his shoulder, no longer trying to hide her smile. "Who knows? She's all over the place and I have no idea where she'll end up." She turned to face him but her eyes tracked something above their heads.

He didn't turn until she moved to cover herself. Harry turned just in time to see a school owl swoop down and drop a bundle into the gravy boat in front of him.

Harry didn't have enough time to react before the dish toppled and sauce covered the front of his robes. Harry took a deep breath before looking to his right, glaring at the openly laughing girl beside him.

"I think you need to work on your reaction time, Wayne."

He pursed his lips. "A warning would've been nice. Just a word or two, some friend you are."

Daphne laughed. "If I wasn't a friend would I give you one of these?"

She held a stack of napkins in her hand. As much as he wanted to scorn her joking offer, he didn't know the charm to clean himself off so he accepted them with a glare.

"You might want to get your mail before the gravy has a chance to soak in." She pointed at the bundle that was half submerged in the bowl in front of them.

Harry yelped, grabbing the package and using the remaining unsoiled napkins to clear away the mess. He could see that the neatly transcribed address was in his mother's handwriting. Eager to read news about home he tore it open.

To his surprise, in addition to the tin filled with cookies baked by Alfred and his parent's letter there was another letter. Written on a sheet of paper torn from a notebook, it was folded and Harry recognized the handwriting right away. It was folded neatly and only one word written on its cover.

_Harry. _All of the hurt he felt about her not even coming out to visit him during the summer melted away and Harry smiled.

Daphne watched perplexed as her friend held the letter with near reverence. The silly grin on his face faded as he continued reading, disappointment clouding his face. He expelled a breath before he folded the letter back up and reached for the other. She could see the beginnings of a smile but it didn't negate whatever had been in the first letter.

Folding up that letter too, he reached for the tin of cookies. "Want one?" Harry offered.

Daphne shook her head. "A little early for biscuits, don't you think?" He shrugged.

"News from home?" Daphne parroted back to him.

"My mom just wanted to see how I was doing. Nothing important," he replied.

"And that has you looking like someone just killed your dog? I don't think so. Spill it, Wayne. If I have to talk about my letter then you have to talk about yours."

Harry snorted. "Fair's fair, I guess." He took a bite of another cookie. "My friend from back home wrote me. I thought she was going to say something about being to busy to come see me over the summer. But she didn't. The next time I'll see her is Christmas vacation and that's almost a year since the last time we saw each other."

"She wrote you, didn't she?" A nod. "Well then, she has to be thinking of you. It can't be easy for her, you being in another country for most of the year." An unconvinced nod.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

_**October 17 1992 Noon  
>Smallville, Kansas<strong>_

Kara stepped out of the truck, glancing around. She had just spotted her friend when a voice rang out.

"Kara, pay attention!"

The blonde jerked and turned at hearing her name. The car swerved off its path and honked its horn. "Whah?" Her confusion was short lived when her cousin's hand closed around her elbow, pulling her back towards the family truck and out of traffic.

"You have to be careful about what you're doing, Kara."

"Calm down, Clark. Nothing would've happened. I'm super fast, remember?" she said, pulling her arm from his grasp.

Clark lowered his voice, "I know that we are in the street in the middle of the day. With dozens of witnesses to any of your super displays." He gave her a warning glance before turning to walk towards the hardware store.

Kara ignored him and crossed the street.

"Way to go girl. Almost causing an accident. Klutz much?"

Kara laughed at the amused scorn in her friend's voice. Amanda sat at a table outside of the diner, sipping a milkshake.

"Now what is so important that I needed to hitch a ride with my cousin into town? So important that you couldn't tell me over the phone?"

Amanda ignored the sarcasm and finished her drink. Kara could see her almost vibrate in excitement, holding still just enough not to blurt out whatever she was holding back.

"Well, I've wanted to get you out of your house since your birthday. But you're always too busy with a job that I know nothing about." Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You hardly ever come out anymore. I'm beginning to think it's me you're hiding from."

Kara smacked her arm.

"I've heard some interesting news and I wanted to share. And doing it over the phone wasn't going to do at all."

"Well? What is it?"

Amanda relished the moment before eventually losing what control she had left. "I just heard that a certain cute boy is gonna invite a certain blonde friend of mine to go to the Fall Festival with him and his friends."

Kara almost squealed. "That's amazing!" Clark chose that moment to walk up to the girls. Amanda looked at Clark and turned red. Her crush on the older Kent was well known to the family.

"Hello Amanda."

"Hello C-Clark," Amanda tripped over her words.

Clark smiled kindly before turning to Kara. "I'm done. Am I leaving you here or are you coming back with me?"

"I'm heading back with you. I have some homework I need to finish."

Clark nodded and walked back to the truck. She spoke this time to her friend. "Now that I came into town for news that couldn't be told to me over the phone," Amanda laughed, the expression of fake outrage on her face failing miserably, "I'll see you on Monday."

She turned and made her way to the truck. She couldn't wait to get back to her room and do a little dance. She couldn't help the smile on her face as they drove back to the farm.

"Good news then?" Clark asked.

Kara looked out the window, trying to hide her blush. "Yeah."

_**October 31 1992 Late Morning  
>Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

The entire house was buzzing with excitement. In a rematch of last year's Quidditch Cup Final, Slytherin and Gryffindor were playing against each other for the first time that year. With almost the entire team returning, Gryffindor seemed poised for a repeat.

Neville sat near the portrait wondering if he should go to the game alone or see if he could convince his friend to leave her room and accompany him. He kept a book in his hand but his eyes were on the staircase that led to the girl's dormitories.

The year had started off normally, the unease of not having seen each for two months dissipated quickly once Neville and Hermione met again. It was only recently that their friendship became strained.

First Hermione started losing focus during class and then the quality of her work began to slip. For someone as driven as Hermione those were major shifts in her personality and Neville had begun to worry about her.

Then the incidents started to get worse. She spent most of their time together staring at nothing. Neville had tried talking to her but Hermione would wave away his concerns or, if he pushed hard enough, snap at him to mind his business. Not having much experience with people his own age before starting at Hogwarts, he didn't know how to move forward. Every day she seemed to move a little further away from him. He hoped that going to the match together would help him.

Hermione walked down the stairs and headed to the chairs closest to the window, her eyes buried in another book. Smaller than normal, Neville watched as she scribbled in it with a quill. Thinking that she was just writing down things she wanted to do later, he dismissed it.

Neville quickly got up out of his seat and approached her. He knew to be careful when she was busy in a book.

"Hi Hermione." Just like he expected, there wasn't a response but he forged ahead. "I was just waiting for you." He wrung his hands. "I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the match with me today. I hear it should be good. Slytherin has a new seeker but everyone's telling me that Gryffindor is going to repeat this year."

When he saw that she still wasn't listening he reached over to catch her attention. As soon as his hand touched her shoulder she jerked away violently.

"What do you want?" Hermione's rebuke was loud. The tone she used was not something Neville was used to hearing directed at him from his friend.

"Are you ok, Hermione?" He spoke softly, wary of setting her off again. "You've been pretty stressed lately. Why don't you come and watch the team play? I think you could use a break."

Hermione was gearing up to argue that she didn't need to be looked after; that she was just fine doing what she liked; that what she wanted was some peace and quiet, which he seemed intent on disrupting but she looked past him towards the window and saw her reflection.

The cost of staying up late at night to write in the journal was marked in her flesh. She had dark circles under her eyes and her hair was more of a mess than usual. The sight of her own face shocked Hermione from the exhausted rant she was about to deliver. She hadn't even noticed how bad she was getting. All the signs were there warning of a nervous breakdown. Easily annoyed, lack of sleep, deteriorating physical condition. She was a checklist of terrible health.

Unconsciously tucking the journal into the pocket of her jumper Hermione rose from her seat. "I'm sorry, Neville. Let me wash up and then I'll join you."

Neville, surprised but happy by the sudden turn, nodded. "Of course, Hermione. I'll wait for you here."

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	16. No Man's Land

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics

**Chapter 15: No Man's Land**

_**November 27 1992 Late Night  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

It was a cold, quiet night in Hogwarts. The castle's inhabitants were asleep. All save one. Silently walking through the corridors, his feet followed old, familiar paths.

In his youth, Dumbledore had snuck out at night to explore the secrets he imagined filled the legendary castle. He had no doubt that a thousand years of history had left amazing things behind.

As a teacher, he had patrolled the corridors to corral mischievous students and escort them back to their beds. The quiet of the night had been a peaceful time. It gave him time to think. He had planned many lessons on his nighttime walks, wrestled with the decision to confront Gellert and developed counterstrokes against Tom. The magic that hummed through the stone corridors helped him achieve a sense of clarity that otherwise eluded him.

But times were different. He no longer hummed to himself or allowed eager students the chance to explore as he once had. The time Dumbledore spent walking through the corridors was now used to organize his thoughts and unwind before he could get any measure of sleep; a luxury that he was not able to afford in recent years. His nights always ended in that broom closet under the stairs.

Before the guilt could begin anew, he heard a loud crash from the floor above him. Wand out, he raced towards the noise. _'Just students, Albus.' _But the dark thoughts from moments before were still clear in his mind.

When he made it up the stairs, the first thing he registered was the low whimpering coming from the middle of the corridor. And then a loud rustling noise from the opposite end.

"_Lumos Maxima!"_ The spell bathed everything in light, which only made the whimpering grow louder. He cautiously made his way towards the noise, eyes darting about.

The sight before him brought back images of glazed eyes and blue skin, as he looked upon one of his second years, petrified against the wall. The noises being made were coming from the small boy next to him.

Ron Weasley shivered, cringing away from the light before an eye peeked open. "Professor! Dean…something happened to Dean. I think he was cursed!"

"Quiet, Mr. Weasley! Stay here and keep your head down!" Albus stalked forward, his wand ready and eyes sweeping the hall. He made his way to where he had heard the rustling and saw drag marks on the floor and walls. Casting more spells, he determined he and the two Gryffindors were the only ones in the vicinity.

He hurried back and shook Ron, trying to break through the hysterics. "Tell me what happened here."

Ron shook. "W-we were only going to the kitchens! I heard a noise and we thought it was a teacher so we hid behind the suit of armor." He pointed a shaking hand at the knocked over relic. Dumbledore understood it as the source of the loud crash that first attracted his attention.

"Did you see who did this?"

"I d-didn't get a good look at him. I just saw his shadow on the armor. I think Dean saw him. H-he made a noise and when I looked at him…I just wanted him to be quiet," he said as tears ran down his face. "W-when I looked at him, he was like that!"

"Come with me, Mr. Weasley. Let's have Madam Pomfrey take a look at you. I will contact your parents while she does."

* * *

><p>News of the attack spread through the school quickly the next day.<p>

With no information on Thomas' condition forthcoming from a professor wild speculation filled the vacuum. Based on Ron's shaky account of what had happened rumors fermented of duels gone wrong and ambushes on the two Gryffindors by a pack of Slytherins.

Before breakfast the next morning, the headmaster called a select few to a meeting in his office to discuss the event.

"Mr. Thomas' is in a stable condition. From what I can tell he is simply petrified. The cure for that is a restorative made from a mandrake sprout but it will be some time before we will have the ingredients to make some," Madame Pomfrey said, nodding to the herbology teacher.

McGonagall interrupted her explanation. "Do we know who is responsible for this? I do not think Mr. Weasley is skilled enough to be able to petrify someone. I do not know of any student here capable of doing so."

"Nor do I," the potions master concurred.

Dumbledore placed his hands on his desk, squinting at the people in front of him. "I do not know who is responsible nor do I know what their intent was. The only thing that is clear is that precautions must be taken for the rest of the school."

"And of Mr. Weasley?" Flitwick interjected. "How is he after all this?"

"I contacted his parents soon after I escorted him to the hospital wing. It seemed to do him a great deal of good. He is still very upset over the loss of his friend. I think the trauma of such an ordeal is more punishment than I could come up with," he waved at the fireplace, "Professor McGonagall, I believe that Arthur and Molly would like to see you to discuss this as well."

As the meeting adjourned Snape lingered behind.

"Do you really not know what happened to the boy?"

"I do not. Is there anything you have heard about a potential attack on a muggleborn?" Dumbledore asked.

"I haven't heard anything. Besides, Thomas is not a target for the hate from some of my more vocal students. He is middle of the pack at best; hardly noteworthy enough to draw ire from my house. And since I am not allowed to look deeper into my students…"

"Severus," Dumbeldore said sternly.

"There is nothing more to say, Dumbledore. I have seen no more vitriol than normal. No whispered conversations or late night meetings. I keep a close eye on my charges, even if McGonagall does not."

_**December 20 1992 Evening  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

"How are we getting there?" Harry asked. He looked at his mother as she helped his father pack for their trip.

"The Javelin," his father replied. "Make sure you pack light. It may be winter here but it is very warm on the island."

"Dad, I'm not a baby! I know the difference between a tropical island and Gotham." Harry rolled his eyes.

Bruce smiled. "Well, has the big boy finished packing?" Harry glared but before he could respond Diana interrupted them.

"If this is the way you two are going to behave I don't think you deserve to visit my mother." Her raised eyebrow was enough to quell any further bickering.

They were silent as Harry watched his parents pack away for their weeklong stay in Themyscira. He had heard his mother speak about her homeland for years but never thought he would have the chance to visit it with her. Then a thought popped into his head.

"What do I call her?"

His question was met with confused looks so he elaborated. "When we meet your mom, what do I call her? Do I call her grandma?"

Bruce stopped packing and looked at Diana. While they made a great family, they had lived in a bubble with just each other for some time. This was something that had yet to be resolved.

Diana was torn. She had happily accepted the title of mother when Harry had offered it but she hadn't explained that her own family might not be as accepting of the men in her life.

There was no doubt that she wanted to say, "Yes". She wanted to reach out and comb her fingers through her son's hair and say, "Of course you can. She's going to love you just like I do." But she couldn't. She had no idea how her mother would react to the type of relationship that Harry would expect from her, would want from her.

She had no choice but to prepare him for any unpleasantness that might occur during their visit. Diana stopped what she was doing and sat on the bed, patting the spot next to her. Once he had sat down and her arm gathered him close she said, "Harry, you know the stories about my mother and sisters, right?" At his nod, she continued. "My mother wants to meet you and your father. And you two will be the first males invited to Themyscira since the Amazons first settled there. But I think we should let her get used to the idea of seeing men staying in her home before we talk to her about that."

Diana could see that Harry wasn't disheartened and decided to explain a little more.

"I do want you to be able to have the type of relationship you want with my mother but let's have you meet her first, ok?"

Harry nodded.

"Ok. Now, while you may be finished your father and I are not. So, if you will, let us finish this without you being a distraction. I think Alfred wanted to get some sparring done before we left and now is as good a time as any." She smiled when Harry snorted and made for his room to change and look for the butler.

Once he had left Bruce continued to look over with a raised eyebrow. They couldn't imagine the reaction they would receive for the son of the princess. All they could do now was wait.

_**December 21 1992 Morning  
>Javelin, 3 Miles above Sea Level<strong>_

Long before dawn, the Javelin left the cave below the manor and set off for Themyscira. Sitting comfortably in the jet, conversation passed easily about the things that Diana wanted to show her family. Places she never thought she would be able to share with Harry and things Bruce never had the chance to see for himself during his previous visits to the island.

When he had nothing further to ask about the island, Harry fell out of the conversation. It wasn't long before he became impatient with the amount of time the superfast jet was taking to get to their destination. Rocking back and forth, remembering anything he had ever heard or read about his mother's mother. Eventually he ran out of things to take his mind off the trip.

"Are we there yet?" He interrupted the conversation about politeness that his parents were having.

Bruce turned his head. "We haven't been in the air for more than an hour, Harry. Why didn't you bring a book?"

Harry sat back with a loud sigh. Looking out the window, he heard, _"I don't understand why we need to wait. We should take the fight to them," he said._

"_We do as the Guardians command. You weren't taught patience as a child, were you Jordan?"_

Harry shook his head. "Jordan?"

Diana looked around from her co-pilot chair. "What was that, Harry?"

"Why did you call me Jordan?"

Diana looked confused. "No one called you Jordan. He asked why didn't you bring a book?"

"Um…I could've sworn…um…how long until we get there?"

* * *

><p>The Javelin landed softly on the beach near a welcoming party consisting of the queen and her royal guard.<p>

Powering down the engines and unlocking the cockpit, Diana glided out of the jet and made for her mother. Landing gently in front of Hippolyta, she wrapped her arms around her.

Pulling back she said, "Mother, you are looking well."

"As well as I've looked for the last four thousand years. I see you have survived the world for a bit longer. Your sisters are glad to have you back, even if it is just for a small while."

Her attention was diverted to Bruce and Harry who were making their way out of the jet and towards the gathered women.

"He is smaller than I imagined," Hippolyta observed.

"Harry's only twelve, mother. Please, be nice. He is already anxious about meeting you," Diana said with a frown. She didn't like the tone that was being set.

"I was talking about the detective."

Bruce walked up first and delivered a small bow. "Your Highness."

"Detective. And you must be Harry." She nodded her head at the boy.

"Ma'am." The guard next to the queen gripped her pole tightly and spoke into Hippolyta's ear. Training her attention on Harry, the queen looked him over with renewed interest.

After a long moment, Hippolyta placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder and led the party away. Speaking quietly and with a hint of steel to her voice she said, "You and I have much to talk about, Diana."

* * *

><p>After dinner, Diana saw to it that Bruce and Harry were settled before going to look for her mother. Diana found her in the throne room with the captain of her guard.<p>

"Mother?" Their quiet conversation was interrupted when Diana drew their attention.

Stern faced, Hippolyta considered her daughter. "Diana, I have always known that you can be reckless and stubborn but to do this."

"What are you talking about?"

"I am talking about the sorcerer that you have brought to this island." Hippolyta raised her voice, barely keeping from shouting.

Diana was flummoxed. "Sorcerer? Are you talking about Harry? Harry's not a sorcerer."

The queen's captain interrupted. "Your Majesty, everyone could feel what the boy is. It is causing unrest among the women."

"Well, yes. Harry is a wizard. But that is not the same. I can see where this is heading. I know the stories about the ancient sorcerers and Harry is nothing like that."

"Magic can be used for many things, Diana. I have seen many of my sisters slain and enslaved because of a man with the ability to bend the elements to his will. That you would even think to bring one here, to our home, shows me how much you have been blinded to what this world has shown you. A princess should know better."

Diana's face reddened in rage. "My son is not an enslaver of women. Harry is a boy. Yes, he practices his magic but I have no doubt in his character. He would never use magic for trickery or deceit. Not with me, not with his family."

Hippolyta could see the maternal instinct rearing up in her daughter and tried a different tactic. "Diana, you have taken a large risk today. Our people will not be happy that a sorcerer walks among them. That boy will be a problem for us."

"Then let them see that Harry is not a monster. He doesn't practice dark magic in a cave in the mountains. _That boy_ is my son and he has done nothing wrong!"

"I did not invite them here to-" But Diana would not let her speak.

"You invited them here to meet my son and the man I have made a family with. _I _did not bring my family here to be scorned because of some preconceived notion of what you think my son is. If this is how Harry can expect to be treated then tell me now and we will leave!"

She took note of the mild shock on her mother's face. They hadn't been in Themyscira a day and things had already taken a turn for the worse. "I am disappointed in you, mother." Diana shook her head, weighing her next words before she spoke.

"Do you know what Harry asked me before we left Gotham? He wanted to know what to call you. He wanted to know if he should call you 'Your Highness' or if he could call you grandmother. My son wants a relationship with you and right now I am wondering why he should have to put up with you." Diana walked out, her fists clenched at her sides.

_**December 28 1992 Late Evening  
>Island of Themyscira, Location Unknown<strong>_

Bruce walked quietly through Themyscira, the island close to deserted at the late hour.

He had been away from Gotham for almost a week and the absence of a _normal_ nightlife was beginning to affect his sleep routine. He had taken to walking around the island to clear his mind. He had seen amazing pieces of architecture; the pure Greek style was a sight to behold.

The last few days had held a strange tension for Bruce, Harry and Diana. The formal way Diana spoke to her mother told him that the two women had had a fight just after they arrived on the island. Christmas had been an intimate affair. With none of the Amazons celebrating, the small family was left largely alone after having breakfast with the queen.

As Bruce approached the training grounds, he could hear swords clanging and words spoken in a long dead language. Moving quietly, he entered the arena to see two Amazons fighting hard, sword on spear.

Bruce watched, from just outside the light cast by the torches, as the queen and her captain sparred with deadly precision. They moved around each other exchanging thrusts, slashes and parries, performing a dance practiced over millennia.

Minutes passed with neither fighter gaining ground until the captain's spear broke beneath an overhand blow. Hippolyta took advantage of the weakness, sending her captain to the ground with a kick to her knee while resting her sword against her opponent's neck.

"I yield."

The queen held her stance for a moment before lowering her weapon with a nod. Bruce was about to turn and leave when Hippolyta yelled over her shoulder.

"Do not go, Detective. I am in need of a partner." She saluted her captain, dismissing her. Once she had left, the queen sheathed her sword and walked up to the weapons rack along the far wall.

"I have heard many tales of your heroics from my daughter. She once told me that she has never seen someone take their training as seriously as you." She looked up from her perusal of the swords in front of her to meet his eyes. "I hope you can understand the weight of such a compliment, coming from an Amazon."

Apparently finding something to her liking, Hippolyta pulled what seemed to resemble a Spartan Lakonian sword from the rack. "She also told me that you were at first resistant to the idea of a relationship with her. I am not ashamed to admit that I hoped she would take that to heart and leave the idea of romance alone. But," she smiled predatorily, "here you are."

"She calls you a warrior." She tossed the blade over, watching as he caught it adeptly by the handle. "I was hoping you would show me whether she was exaggerating."

Bruce tested the weight of the sword in his hand. A superbly made blade rested in the handle, not something he had used before but he would use it nonetheless. "I'll do my best to acquit your daughter, Your Highness. Though, I have to admit that I don't come across many swords in my work."

The war cry from the legendary warrior was followed by swift clangs of metal on metal. Unprepared for the attack, only his superb reflexes allowed him to deflect her blade before it could connect. She kicked Bruce in the sternum, pushing him back.

Bruce recovered, preparing himself for the next strike. "Why did you invite us here?" he asked, his tone still even.

Hippolyta closed the gap and started another exchange. "I wanted to meet the man who has enchanted my daughter. Do I need any other reason?"

Bruce parried her next attack, his eyes never wavering from the blade in her hand. Still focusing on the fight, he responded, "Diana has been out in the world a long time. I can't have been the first man to show an interest in her. Trevor wasn't invited back. Why do I have the honor?"

Hippolyta sidestepped. She didn't hold anything back. Bruce could tell that every move she made was meant to hurt him, to find a way past his defenses and draw blood. But that did not stop her from continuing their conversation.

"No man has ever held her eye the way you do. And the way your son looks to her…is discomforting," Hippolyta said.

Bruce continued to fight. The only indication he gave of hearing her words was the tightening around his mouth. Once he was able to get off the defensive, he responded, "Our son."

"Yes, she has told me as much." She pivoted around a jab of Bruce's sword and swung a fist into his face. He parried another swipe of her sword and pushed off to give himself space, touching his nose and coming away with blood.

"My daughter, the princess of the Amazons, has settled down with a man to raise a boy. I think you can see why I invited you here, Detective." Hippolyta lowered her sword, looking over at Bruce. "Why I worry for my daughter."

Bruce wiped his nose on his sleeve and switched the sword to his right hand. Moving quickly, he closed the space between them. He attacked, switching between different combat forms to throw Hippolyta off balance.

One moment he was wielding the sword with two hands the way a kendo master would and then he smoothly transitioned into a single-handed grip that fencers preferred. His barrage of quick jabs, back-handed swipes, and overhead strikes forced the queen to stop talking and focus on finding a way around Bruce's calculated technique.

Hippolyta took a measured step forward and forced Bruce back to avoid being thrown off-balance. She kept her eyes on him as they circled each other, not willing to be surprised by another attack.

"Diana loves Harry as much as he loves her. She _is_ his mother. I doubt there is anything you or I can do to convince her otherwise. It will be that way forever."

Hippolyta gripped her sword tighter, her chest heaving. Bruce couldn't tell if it was because of their duel or if she was desperately trying to control her temper. "What happens if you tire of this relationship? When you no longer desire her and you decide that you want someone else? What will become of my daughter when the frivolity of men shows itself when her son scorns here?"

As if spurred on by the images of her daughter being abandoned by the man in front of her, Hippolyta lunged forward with an inarticulate war cry. Bruce barely managed to catch her blade with the hilt of his sword. He used all of his strength to keep himself steady. She tried with all her might to force him to the ground but she never expected to hear what he said next.

"I'm going to ask her to marry me."

The half snarl disappeared, replaced with shock.

"I wanted to ask her while we were here. I wanted you to know first. It just seemed right."

Hippolyta stepped back, the sword pointed at the ground. "And if I said no?"

"I wasn't asking for your permission. I was doing you the favor of telling you first," Bruce replied calmly. He walked back to the rack of weapons and replaced his sword. "Goodnight, Your Highness."

_**December 30 1993 Morning  
>Island of Themyscira, Location Unknown<strong>_

The trip was coming to an end for Harry and his family. They had spent every day exploring the island, following behind Diana as she recounted her early life. While sitting down for the first meal of the day Harry asked what they were going to do that day.

Hippolyta spoke up before Diana could answer. "Today I wanted to show you some of the older parts of the island. There are stories that even your mother is not old enough to remember," she said.

"If that is agreeable?" Her question was aimed at Diana.

Confused and hopeful for some progression on her mother's attitude, Diana looked to Bruce with a nod. "Yes, mother that would be splendid. I wanted to show Bruce the peak on the other side of the island. I'm sorry, Harry. It's a very long hike to the gulf."

Harry looked to the queen and back at his mother quickly, answering with a shrug.

Diana pushed her seat back and grabbed Bruce's hand. "Let's go, Bruce. It's a long way."

After telling Harry to behave himself, they excused themselves and left the palace. It was the first time that Harry had been without the shielding comfort of his parents since they had come to the island.

Their absence only served to bring the hesitant feeling back. Remembering a time when he had no one to call mom and dad, he appreciated the love of family more than most children his age; nightmares of cupboards and screeching were never far from his mind. It was the imposing woman at the head of the table that gave him pause.

Harry hadn't felt especially welcome in Themyscira and he thought he knew the reason why.

"Come, Harry. There is much to see." The queen called him forward as she led the way from the palace.

Harry found himself looking over the buildings in a new light as the queen described the history behind them. He had found it interesting when his mother told him how the Amazons had moved to the island and sequestered themselves from the rest of the world but to hear it from the queen who had lived through the even allowed him to see it in a new light.

At the end of their walk, the queen led him to a balcony overlooking the forum. Gathered below were dozens of formally dressed Amazons having loud discussions, bordering on arguments. Many topics were being discussed at once. Guard shifts, domestic chores and minor complaints were just some of what Harry heard over the din.

Harry leaned over the railing, eager to hear more clearly the women below when he noticed the queen watching him. Now a little self-conscious, Harry tried to make conversation.

"What are they doing?" Harry nodded his head at the congregation.

"Making sure that the kingdom continues to provide for its daughters." Hippolyta pointed at the few Amazons that stood on a raised platform. "Over the millennia on this island we have striven to make sure that none are left idle. The council before you schedule tasks to be completed and arbitrates minor disputes. An important lesson we have learned here is that idleness is just as dangerous as a sword."

During a lull in the conversation below them one of the Amazons looked up, her eyes narrowing as she took in Harry. She opened her mouth to say something when she noticed the queen at his side.

"They don't like me, do they?" Harry said, his eyes still on the assembly.

"Your presence here puts them in a situation that no Amazon has been in for a very long time. Even if we were to disregard your affinity for magic," Harry nodded, trying not to look at the queen, "there is still the fact that you are the son of the princess."

Hippolyta waved her arm, indicating the whole of the island. "Many were worried that they would be forced to bow down to a man. Even I must admit I wondered how you would act once you arrived here."

"Your mother told me about the anxiety you felt about meeting me. I wish I could put your mind at ease, to tell you what you would like to hear but some things are simply not possible."

She looked Harry in the eyes as she spoke. In that moment he could see a trace of his mother. The strength, the poise; all of it shining through without the love that he was used to feeling.

"We have never been good at dealing with men. There are a few that find happiness, your mother among them. But never in my life did I expect to be related to one."

Harry nodded. "I understand."

As he turned to walk away, Hippolyta caught his arm.

"But that does not mean you cannot count on me. Your mother is my daughter and I have a continued interest in her happiness. Which, I am sure, is going to be very prominent soon."

_**January 2 1993 Late Evening  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

Harry stepped out of the Javelin, his legs shaky from exhaustion. It had been a long week and he was glad to be home.

He had enjoyed the time spent on the island. Warm weather, ancient history and now his parents were engaged. A summer wedding and they were going to be the Waynes. He couldn't wait.

It helped battle the awkward tension he had felt since walking up the beach twelve days ago.

Now being back home, the mood he was in when his father told him they weren't going to be in Gotham for Christmas came back. That shot down any chance of seeing Kara before he went back to school.

Watching Alfred walk away with his parents' luggage, he grabbed his bag and began the trek to his room. He made it halfway up the Main Stairwell when arms wrapped around his middle and lifted him into the air.

"Ahh!" Harry dropped his bag in surprise when he heard a familiar snort. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Kara grinning widely. Her eyes almost closed in pleasure. "Kara?"

"Harry!" She squealed before she started to swing him side to side. "I've missed you so much. I almost died when Clark told me you were going away for Christmas." She kicked off and flew them both to his room, leaving his luggage abandoned on the stairs.

Alfred stood with Bruce on the landing below, watching the happy reunion.

The butler turned to the softly smiling father. "I assume she is spending the night?"

Bruce nodded. "I figured they could use the night to reconnect before Harry leaves tomorrow."

"You are going to let them spend the night in his room, without a chaperone? Are you sure they are not too old for that?"

Bruce looked at the man who had raised him. He knew that Alfred had never been in this situation when while raising him because Bruce had not had a happy childhood. He tried to sum it up, make the idea of Kara spending the night in Harry's room seem harmless.

"I would be worried if it were anyone else. But they don't see each other like that. Maybe one day but for the moment, for tonight, they are only Harry and Kara. Nothing's going to happen."

Alfred nodded, making his way towards the luggage balancing precariously on the step in front of them. "Goodnight, Master Bruce."

"Goodnight, Alfred."

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p> 


	17. In New Light

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or Harry Potter

A/N: To the anonymous reviewer that cleverly named himself "Apollo": Yes, this story is based on Power of Oa. If you read the first chapter, right at the beginning, you would see the note I wrote. So please, stop being an idiot.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16: In New Light<strong>

_**April 20 Late Afternoon  
><strong>__**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain**_

There had been another attack.

He had raced up to the hospital wing, arriving just as the nurse showed Daphne's mother back to the floo. He caught a glimpse of the stony faced blonde as she turned for a last look at her daughter before going home. They had placed her on a bed near the end of the ward. Harry sat close, unable to say a word, his eyes never leaving her face.

Daphne had been found in the hall outside of their common room, her shoulders hunched around her head like she was flinching away from a strike. Her bag on the floor, far from her, her books scattered. Now she was as stiff as stone, her face pinched. But Harry couldn't look away from her one half-open eye.

"What is Albus doing about this? There has to be a way to protect the students."

"The headmaster has not deigned to inform me of his every decision."

Pomfrey frowned but before she could respond she caught sight of Harry. Shaking her head, she drew Snape's attention to the scene with a wave of her hand.

"I'm sorry, young man but I need to run some more tests." Harry didn't acknowledge her, his vigil uninterrupted until his head of house's hand gripped his shoulder.

"Come along, Mr. Wayne. Curfew is about to begin."

Still in a daze, he didn't realize he was being guided back to the dungeons until he was at the entrance to the common room. Snape left him with a warning. "No more wandering at night, Wayne. You must do what you can to stay safe." And with that he turned for his office.

Harry walked into a house still clamoring over the news, the noise higher than normal for a weekday. He sat down next to Blaise, the events of the day just beginning to catch up to him.

"Wayne? You there, Wayne?"

Harry slowly focused, reality setting in. Looking around he took in the commotion, nodding his head to the group gathered around the tables. "What's going on over there?"

Blaise looked over before turning away, his face sour. "Malfoy's writing to his father. He thinks he can get Dumbledore kicked out because of the attack today."

Harry's expression went from uninterested to confused. "Why would he care if Daphne was attacked?" Blaise looked away. "What? What am I missing?"

"He was there." At Harry's narrowed-eyed look he continued. "He was with Daphne in the hall before she was attacked. He's telling everyone that he was the target. They heard something coming down the hall and he got away…she didn't."

Harry pushed off violently from his seat and hadn't taken a step before Blaise grabbed his arm. "What are you doing, Wayne?" He pulled his arm free and made his way to Malfoy who had already spotted him.

"Well, well, well, look at what we have here. Do you think that once Dumbledore is gone that we'll be able to get rid of you too, Wayne? Not much reason for you to stick around now that the only person that would talk to you is a statue." The accompanying laughter by the people surrounding Malfoy only made Harry picture Daphne's huddled body.

Wand forgotten, Harry pushed past a few other Slytherins and grabbed Malfoy by the neck of his robes. "You left her there!" Harry cocked his fist back and hit him.

"You filthy mudblood!" Draco screamed around a bloody nose. "There's no way you're staying now!"

Harry drew his arm back to deliver another blow when he was roughly pulled away.

It was Blaise's voice that spoke calmly to him. "Calm down. He didn't do anything. He didn't petrify her."

"No, he just left her there!" Harry tried to pull out of the boy's grip.

"You're going to regret this, Wayne." The bleeding staunched and no longer flowing from his nose, Draco looked murderous.

_**April 25 1993  
>Gryffindor House, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

Hermione didn't know where the feeling was coming from but she felt a sense of shame whenever she was around others. It had been that way since the start of the school year. Strange urges to leave her dorm, irrepressible anger at those that made her feel insecure. She couldn't control herself and now she was starting to forget things.

Hermione knew that the attacks happening around the school should have frightened her but she felt oddly disconnected. The news of two of her classmates, one in her house, falling victim in a deserted hallway barely made her think twice. She felt herself going through the motions in a dream-like state.

She hadn't written to her parents in weeks. With no way of getting in contact with her, Hermione knew that they would be getting anxious but she didn't care. And she knew that meant something was wrong.

Her only saving grace was Neville. He was the only one willing to make time to pull her out of whatever fugue state she was in. He reasoned with her when she was being snappish, cajoled her when she sulked, stubbornly took her tongue-lashings when she felt the irrational anger reach a boiling point and still pushed her into enjoying their time at school. Somewhere in the back of her mind Hermione knew that without him as her anchor she would've been lost long ago.

Hermione had tried to ask for help. She put the words together in her head but when she tried to speak she found herself back in the walking dream.

At night she would dream of a long cavern, far underground and a slow laugh. All attempts to wake herself were met with the same voice.

"Not yet, little one. We have plans."

_Enemies of the Heir, beware._ _The Chamber of Secrets is open._

_**April 29 1993 Evening  
>Office of the Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

"We have to do something, Albus! Two students have been petrified and we're no closer to knowing to who or what is doing this. The ministry can't be seen as idle; especially with _his_ history." Cornelius Fudge paced back and forth through the office, worrying his hat in his hands. "I have the press breathing down my neck every minute of the day. We need to be seen making some progress."

"A leader should do what is right, not what looks right. Without a conviction Hagrid will not be put in Azkaban," Dumbledore said severely.

"Fine, fine. We'll keep him in a holding cell at the ministry. He'll be safe and not with those…things."

A knock on the door drew their attention. "Who could be calling on you at this time, Albus?"

Dumbledore rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Enter."

Lucius Malfoy walked through the door, followed closely by a pair of cloaked men.

"Lucius? What are you doing here? Dawlish?" Fudge stopped twirling his hat, confused.

The auror tipped his hat. "Evening Minister, Headmaster."

Lucius was much less cordial in his greetings. "Cornelius, it's fortuitous that you are here. It makes it easier if there is a witness." A practiced look of decorum shone on his face as he produced a scroll from his robe pocket. "It is with great sorrow that I, Lucius Malfoy, do suspend Albus Dumbledore from his post as headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He placed it on the headmaster's desk.

"With the attacks on the students, the most recent nearly involving my own son, the school governors have voted to remove you from the grounds."

"Lucius, surely you don't want to do that," Fudge tried to intervene. "To take away Albus now would mean mayhem."

"Unfortunately, we have reached the end of our patience. First, the muggleborn boy and now Alana's girl. My son was distraught to hear that one of his close friends was attacked. I can't, in good conscience, allow this to go on any longer."

Fudge sputtered.

Lucius calmly spoke over him. "Are you here to carry out the detainment we spoke of?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

Lucius continued. "Yes, the minister and I were speaking about the attacks and I suggested that it would do a great deal of good if the Ministry would be seen to be handling the events going on here." He turned to Fudge, "I brought a few more aurors in case the gamekeeper puts up a struggle."

The minister was still reeling from the news he had just received. "I'm sure that will not be an issue. Albus assures me that he will not resist. Hagrid will be escorted to the Ministry and be held in a holding cell."

Lucius felt a little amusement in how easily the minister was swayed to the opinions of others. Just as well, it suited his goals. "Of course, Cornelius. And of the matter of the Chamber of Secrets?"

Fudge scoffed. "The myth? I'm sure that whoever is behind this is using the legend of the monster of Slytherin to frighten everyone."

Lucius made it seem as if he was looking out the window to hide the faint upturn of his lips. "Yes, that would make sense. On top of things as always, Minister."

_**May 21 1993 Late Afternoon  
>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain<strong>_

The school year was coming to an end. With no new attacks the students were beginning to forget the horror and waiting for the petrified victims to wake up.

As the students were leaving the Great Hall after dinner, gossip quickly spread about the maturation of the Mandrakes. One student had overheard that they would soon be ready to be used to awaken the petrified students and hopefully bring the perpetrator to justice.

The Gryffindors greeted the news with backslapping and laughter. As they moved to the common room to celebrate a pair of second years lagged behind the rest of their housemates.

"Hermione?" Neville stopped short realizing his friend was still half way down the corridor. And what he saw scared him.

Hermione stood in the middle of the corridor, back straight, eyes closed, muttering to herself. To Neville it seemed like she was having an argument with herself. "Hermione, are you ok?"

Before he could reach her, Hermione turned and took off down the corridor. Without thinking, Neville ran after her. The chase went to the other side of the castle and down two flights of stairs. Neville didn't know how she kept the pace, never having seen her do anything more athletic than load her schoolbag.

Unable to keep up, Neville lagged behind and watched as she made a turn around the corner. When he finally came upon her, she stood, unseeing in front of a girl's lavatory.

"Hermione, what are you doing? We have to get back to the common room. They haven't lifted the curfew yet."

Suddenly her body stilled. Taking a deep breath, she turned towards Neville. He gasped, her eyes were blood red, and the last words he heard before he took a stunner to the chest were a deeper voice coming from Hermione's mouth. "It is time."

* * *

><p>Neville woke some time later, his head throbbing from his fall after the stunner.<p>

"Longbottom?" Neville froze, his hand slowly inched into his robes.

"Don't do it. You're not quick enough." Neville watched as Harry slowly circled him, the wand never wavering.

Harry stared at the Gryffindor. "What are you doing lying down in the middle of the corridor after curfew has been called?"

"I need to help her. I think something's controlling her. She-"

Harry gripped his wand tighter. "Controlling who?"

"Hermione. I don't know what's been attacking people but something has her under a spell. She wouldn't do this."

Harry walked to the door of the girl's lavatory. It looked as though the sink had been taken apart; a large hole took up most of the floor space. "It's a basilisk. The thing attacking everyone, what's down that giant hole," Harry gestured to the opening in the floor. "It's a giant snake with the most poisonous venom you could imagine and a stare that can seize up your body and kill you."

"How do you know it's a basilisk?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Intelligence isn't limited to one house, Longbottom. The Monster of Slytherin? A man immortalized by his association with snakes? It wasn't a huge leap to make the connection to the king of serpents. I've read enough books to know at least that. The question is, do you know how to fight a basilisk?"

"No, but I can't just let Hermione go down there by herself. She hasn't been acting right this year. Something has to be forcing her to do this."

Harry lowered his wand. "You mean making her petrify people all year. Why didn't you say something sooner? She could've killed someone!"

Neville scowled but took the opportunity to stand. "That wasn't her fault. She hasn't been in control of what she's doing. The only way I can help is if I can get to her. Don't try to stop me."

Harry led the way into the bathroom. "Then we are going to have to go down there." Without another word Harry jumped into the open pipe.

Harry began to worry when the ride went deeper than he expected. With no light in the pipe, he couldn't see an end coming up until, with a cry of surprise, he flew from the bottom of the pipe and landed in the mud and rocks.

Standing, Harry wiped the mud from his hand. He heard a yelp of surprise and hurriedly sidestepped, moving to the side of the pipe just as Neville flew out of it with greater momentum than Harry had. He slid through the mud, only stopping when he collided with a rock with a painful crack. Sitting up with a gasp, Neville touched his left ankle gingerly.

"That didn't sound good. Can you stand?" Harry asked.

"I'm fine. Just give me a minute." Harry watched on as Neville made sure not to put any weight on his left foot.

Lighting his wand, Harry knelt next to Neville and made note of the already large swelling under the sock. "You need to stay here."

"No! I can help!" Harry watched on as Neville made sure not to put any weight on his left foot.

"How are you going to help? You can't even stand." Harry pointed to where he was leaning against the cavern wall. "If there is a basilisk in there, there's no way to get in there and get her out if you can barely limp."

"Fine. What do I do?"

"Stay here. If one of us doesn't come back in an hour, go find help."

Continuing on his own, Harry followed the tunnel, walking through dirt and mud, and the carcasses of thousands of small animals. He eventually reached a set of wide open doors.

The chamber was decorated with large snakes carved into the stone. Centuries of neglect and water damage had caved in a portion of the wall and made the air smell musky and rotten. Harry walked down the long chamber, it wasn't long before his eyes trained on a mess of black robes left on the ground in front of a giant carving of a man's face.

He approached it slowly, not wanting to be surprised by a basilisk. Once he drew near Harry could tell it was Hermione and she was still breathing. Her face was pale and her hands were clenched around an old leather-bound book.

"Granger. Granger, wake up." Harry pointed his wand and said, _"Aguamenti."_

A weak flow of water poured out of his wand and doused the prone girl. Hermione, however, didn't move or sputter or try to stem the flow of water. She lay there, unconscious.

"She's not going to wake." Harry startled, not expecting to hear anyone else's voice. He turned to the entrance, waiting to see Neville limp his way into the chamber when he heard the voice again.

"Oh no. There won't be any help coming for you." Ready for the voice, Harry turned to see a person, half hiding in the shadows of the large face.

"What's wrong with her? Who are you?" Harry was stumbling over his thoughts. All of the pieces he had put together led him to think Hermione had been possessed by something cursed. That she was being controlled into letting loose the snake.

The shadowed figure stepped closer. Harry blinked.

The voice belonged to a teenage boy but Harry couldn't believe his eyes. The boy seemed to be fuzzy around the edges. It was like looking through a dirty window.

"Who am I? I am Tom Riddle. I used to be a student here, very long ago in fact. What is wrong with her? Why that is a complicated matter. Let's just say that she is giving to a very worthy cause."

"You're doing this to her?" Harry moved around so he shielded Hermione's unresponsive body from view.

"Doing it to her? No. I couldn't do anything to her. She's doing this to herself. Overly curious and horridly naïve make for a terrible combination, wouldn't you agree?" Riddle asked, amused.

"How?"

"Ms. Granger attacks life the way she attacks her studies. Shame she is a mudblood. She found me and was instantly enthralled. A new mystery she had to solve. No idea of what power lies behind a sentient object; no clue that such magic could be stronger than she is. It didn't take long before I could change her mood; make her sullen or angry at my will. Then I could control her."

Harry could still feel Daphne's stiff hands. "It was you. You made her release the basilisk."

Riddle laughed. "Ah, I see you aren't slow to catch up. Yes, we released the basilisk. Through my time with her I had two perfect targets to make examples of but both times she redirected my efforts. At first I thought nothing of it. We had successfully attacked a mudblood, the job wasn't done but the castle knew something lurked again." He inhaled a long breath as if to savor the victory.

"It wasn't until later that I noticed she had targeted one of the boys that were harassing her. The mudblood that was petrified was just a happy coincidence. I tried again and this time she immediately latched on to the idea of making one of her tormentors suffer. If the boy wasn't such a coward we would've had two trophies that night. After that she tried to get rid of my presence in her mind and I knew it was time to act."

Harry knew this part of the story, the warning to the school, the lockdown in the common rooms.

"Curiosity killed the cat and how fitting that it is one of the little lions of Gryffindor that fell under my spell."

"You can't have her." Harry stood with his wand raised.

"Boy, I already have her. Soon the transfer will be complete and her life will be gone. Used to make me whole again. But if it's a fight you want, I can oblige." Suddenly a loud hissing filled the chamber. It echoed off the walls and faded away.

Then there was an answering hiss from deep inside the cavern followed by a dragging noise. Something heavy and large was hidden deep inside the walls.

Harry remembered, _'A basilisk will continue growing throughout its life.'_ He snapped his eyes shut and raised his wand.

"Clever. You know what it is you face. But no matter, while you stumble in the dark, the basilisk will find a tasty treat in you."

"_Reducto! Reducto! Reducto!"_ Harry fired wildly. All three spells went wide, crashing into the floor, the wall and taking out a pillar.

"That won't do you much good. Basilisks are some of the mightiest magical creatures in the world."

Harry stopped shooting spells. He could hear the serpent's heavy breathing and it coiling its body in preparation to strike. _'Can't hurt it with spells? Fine. I won't hit it with magic.'_

Harry pointed his wand at the ceiling. _"Reducto!"_ A powerful spell blasted a hanging stalactite, shattering it. Harry threw himself to the side, rolling to avoid the falling debris.

Large rocks splintered as they rained down. The basilisk was hit with a glancing blow, making it hiss in rage. As it recovered and coiled for a strike, a long length of rock penetrated its eye.

Harry covered his ears at the sound. Over it all Riddle was screaming at the snake to kill him.

The basilisk writhed in pain, its tail swinging wildly and knocking over one of the snake motif pillars next to Harry. He rolled out of the way as the stone broke into pieces. Before he could recover, the snake lunged, mouth gaping. Covering the distance between them with ease, it caught Harry and the large chunk of stone behind him in its mouth.

"Crush him. Crush the boy!" The apparition screamed from next to Hermione's body.

Harry scrambled back against the broken pillar. He had no chance of escaping with the snake's fangs leaving only a tiny clearance. His only hope was of the crumbling rock keeping the snake from swallowing him whole.

He pointed his wand at the roof of its mouth. "_Repulso! Bombarda! Impedimenta!_" Every spell he tried to force the mouth open failed.

A loud crack rang through the air. The stone behind him was beginning to break away.

Another crack. Everything he would never see again flashed in front of Harry's eyes. Not seeing his parents marry. Not being there when Daphne woke up. Never laughing with Kara again.

As the rock fell away in smaller pieces Harry threw both of his arms up in an attempt to keep the mouth open.

Just before the snake's mouth could close completely, a green light shot out of his hands. Harry screamed in fear as the energy pierced through the snake's skull and gouged a large hole in the ceiling of the chamber.

The basilisk screeched as it writhed in pain. Harry was thrown was thrown from its mouth as the stone was dislodged by its thrashing, landing close to Hermione's body.

"No! What have you done? I have let this foolishness go on long enough. I will kill you myself." Riddle's eyes drank in the sight of the graying Hermione. "Soon the transfer will be complete and there will be nothing you can do to stop me."

Harry crawled to Hermione, still weak from his ordeal in the basilisk's mouth and the energy he had shot from his hand. With his vision darkening at the edges he rooted around for the diary.

"You are wasting your time," Riddle's laugh echoed in the chamber. "There is nothing you can do."

Harry ignored him. He knew he didn't have long before he lost the fight to stay conscious. Barely holding himself together, Harry felt the cold, smooth cover of the leather diary.

"What are you doing, boy?"

Harry tried it again. He imagined all he had to fight for. His friends. His family. He imagined the green light again and drove everything else from his mind.

The shadow of Tom Riddle watched in shock as Harry's hand began to glow an increasingly bright green and he pressed it to the diary.

Harry forced as much of the energy from his hand and into the book as he could. Before long the cover started to crack and the pages began to crumble. A scream from Riddle behind him gave Harry all the more reason to hold on until he knew that the diary was destroyed.

Chancing a glance behind him, Harry could see that Riddle was no longer gaining corporeality. Instead his body was losing color as it began to fade away.

"Stop! Stop, I command you!" With a last push, Harry scorched the diary. Breathing hard, he turned over and watched as the apparition faded; the last echoes of its screams disappearing.

Harry laughed. Still weak, he leant back on his elbows and watched as Hermione stirred. He heard her voice, "What…Wayne?" The he passed out.

Harry's nose itched. As much as he tried he couldn't gather the strength to scratch it. He heard some rustling and for a moment he thought it was his hand moving.

"Wayne? Wayne, you need to wake up. Neville, hand me my wand." There was a rustle of fabric at his side. "Wayne? _Aguamenti."_

A torrent of water caught him in the face, making him splutter. Too tired to raise his hand and stop any more attempts to drown him, Harry turned his face away and coughed.

"Oh thank God. We were beginning to worry." Two pairs of hands helped him into a seated position.

Neville kneeled in front of him, his face pale. "Are you ok?" Harry shook his head.

"Well too bad. We need to go." Harry snorted, the action made him dizzy but he agreed.

The trio made their way toward the front of the tunnel. Hermione doing what she could to help Neville keep weight off his injured ankle, Harry followed behind them, focusing on keeping the ground from rushing up to meet him.

Neville's limp made it a slow trek for them so Hermione suggested they take a break at the bottom of the slide.

It was Neville that broke the uneasy silence between them. "What happened in there? That snake was bloody huge."

"I killed it." Harry couldn't even imagine what it would be like to explain what had happened with the basilisk. He had seen that green light before and he couldn't risk any questions being asked, none that he couldn't answer.

Neville glared. "Well, that's obvious. I could see three different spots where its brain ended up."

Hermione watched him, the lights in her eyes dimmer now that they were removed from the awesome sight of the basilisk. Shock was beginning to set in.

"It tried to eat me. I blew its head open from inside its mouth." Hermione gasped. The tears running down her face made Harry feel guilty. He knew she would blame herself.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so-"

Neville stopped her. "It wasn't your fault. No one's blaming you. You couldn't have stopped it." He turned hard eyes to Harry. "Right?"

"He's right. It wasn't your fault. Riddle," Hermione clenched her eyes at his name, "he was strong. I've never read anything about what he was but that was strong magic. To possess someone and try to steal…" Harry shook his head of the images of Hermione lying motionless. "None of us would've had a chance."

"See? You're ok. No one died. Everything's going to be ok." Neville stood on one leg and looked around. "So how do we get back up there?"

Hermione quickly strode over to the chute. The boys both wondered what she was doing while she felt around the rough stone wall. A low groaning and her small cry of relief signaled she had found what she was looking for.

"There will be steps in the slide now. We can climb them until we come out of the girl's bathroom." She looked directly at Harry. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"If it hadn't been for you and Neville I would've died down there and no one would've known." She sobbed.

Neville gathered her close. "If you need anything from us, just as-"

"Really. Don't mention it. Don't tell anyone that I was down here. I don't want the attention." Hermione and Neville looked on, confused.

"But why? You saved my life. They should know."

"You said anything I asked for. I'm asking you to leave my name out of it. Ok? Just, I get enough attention as it is and the story of me killing the legendary beast of Slytherin to save a Gryffindor won't win me any points with my housemates."

Hermione grabbed his arm. "What are we going to tell the teachers?"

Harry shook her hand off. "You're smart. You'll figure something out." Before they could stop him, Harry took the first few steps up to the bathroom and out of their sight.

"What do we do, Neville?"

"We owe him, Hermione. We'll just have to find a way to keep his name out of it."

* * *

><p>Professor McGonagall found them just as they exited the bathroom. Her screech brought the attention of Filch and they escorted them to the Headmaster's office.<p>

Dour faced, Dumbledore's eyes brightened as he took in the sight of Neville limping but looking at Hermione concernedly.

"Headmaster, you're back." The relief in the boy's voice made Dumbledore smile.

"Yes, my boy. Once they heard about Ms. Granger," he acknowledged her with a nod, "the governors thought it would be best if I were to take up my old post."

McGonagall dove right into the point. "Will someone tell me what happened tonight?"

"It was all my fault. I was the one attacking everyone. I set the basilisk loose." Hermione sobbed, burying her face in Neville's shoulder.

"Basilisk!" McGonagall took a step back and placed a hand over her heart. Whatever she was going to say next was interrupted by Neville.

"It wasn't your fault, Hermione. That book was making you do it. You couldn't control it."

"Book?" Professor McGonagall asked confusedly.

Hermione nodded. Out of her robes she pulled a badly burned book, what remained of the diary.

"He talked with me for hours. I was wary at first but he didn't hold anything back and I double-checked everything he said and he was telling the truth. He helped me with my homework and gave me advice on what books I should read. Then…then I couldn't stop him." Her sobs turned to whimpering.

"He?" Dumbledore leaned forward.

"Tom Riddle."

McGonagall gasped. The only tell that Dumbledore showed as the clenching of his fist.

"No, Ms. Granger. It is not your fault. Tom Riddle has deceived much older and more experienced wizards and witches than yourself. I would like to know how you came into possession of this book, however."

"I found it after term started in a book I bought during the summer holidays. I don't know where it came from. There wasn't anything in it before I came to school."

Dumbledore looked at her in concern, "I'm sorry, Ms. Granger."

"Thank you, Professor." Hermione wiped her eyes before looking up at him, noticing the twinkle in his eyes.

The door swung open. "What is this, Dumbledore? Even after you are banished, legally I might add, you decide for yourself to return?"

"Yes, the governors thought that with the latest event," Dumbledore gestured to the two huddled students, "it would be prudent to ask me to return."

Lucius was livid. "Without consulting me?"

"So it would seem. Although I am glad you are here. Ms. Granger and Mr. Longbottom have been telling me an amazing tale."

"Unfortunately I do not have the time to hear it. There are many important things that I must attend to. I want to know who was responsible for the events of the past year."

Dumbledore continued like he hadn't heard him. "A tale that centers around this diary." His weathered hands patted the book that rested on his desk. "It seems that this is what has been responsible for the attacks happening this year."

"And how has it been doing that?"

"It seems that Tom Riddle's diary was used to coerce Ms. Granger into unleashing a basilisk into the school."

"A fantastic story, I'm sure. If you don't have any proof of this I think the aurors would like to have a word with her." Lucius could barely control his lips from curling into a sneer.

Neville had been on a short fuse since following Harry down the slide and it sparked at Lucius' insinuation that Hermione was going to be in trouble. "It's true and we can prove it. The basilisk is still down there and the way is still open."

Dumbledore gestured to the children. "See, Lucius. I'm sure we could collect enough evidence to prove that Ms. Granger was not acting of her own free will. Now, Professor McGonagall will you please escort Ms. Granger and Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. I am sure they would appreciate some time to recover from today's ordeal."

McGonagall nodded and stood to herd the two Gryffindors out.

"It is fortunate that the diary was found and the serpent was stopped in time." Lucius' eyes were trained on the book. "If there is nothing more, Dumbledore. I will need to see the rest of the board."

"If any more of Lord Voldemort's possessions find their way into this school, in the hands of any of my students, I will make sure it is the last thing you do."

"There's no way you can prove that it was me, Dumbledore. And if you could there is no one that would believe you over me. If you can't remember Dumbledore, I am the reformed gentleman that gives to charity. You, on the other hand, are the old man that allowed an innocent boy to die in the hands of his muggle relatives." Dumbledore placed his wand on his desk

With a smug look, Lucius shook his head. "You need to realize that you're irrelevant now, like a relic from the past."

And he stood, readying himself to leave the office when he found that he couldn't move his body. Nothing was responding to his command. His hands wouldn't clench, his feet wouldn't walk and his chest wouldn't expand; leaving no room for him to take a breath. He began to panic when he realized that he could suffocate in the middle of the headmaster's office in Hogwarts.

Dumbledore stood slowly. "Lucius, I will not slander your name to the press. I will not bring you up charges or have you investigated. I will come for you myself. _You_ need to realize that I am from a time when power stood for something." With a wave of his hand Lucius was released. "And I still have that power."

Gone was the smug look, replaced with anger as Malfoy stalked out of the room.

_**June 27 1993 Late Afternoon  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham<strong>_

The journey back to Gotham had been a quiet one for Harry. Happy to see his parents again, he smiled and joked, as he normally would've. It wasn't until they boarded the plane back home that his mind started to wander.

The long month spent without Daphne.

The snake.

The green light he had summoned while trapped in the basilisk's jaws.

He had seen that light before in old videos of the Justice League were still on file in the Watchtower. He just couldn't imagine how he had been able to use it.

Not knowing what else to do. He walked into his father's study to see his parents talking to about their upcoming wedding. Diana glanced at him before turning back to Bruce.

"Mom, Dad. I wanted to talk to you."

"Give us a second, Harry," Bruce said, distractedly.

Harry rolled his eyes. He tried his mother. "Mom! I need you to see this."

He clapped his hands together as she looked up, willing it to happen again. Diana tilted her head to the side, not sure what she was supposed to be watching.

"What are you doing, Harry?"

Harry almost yelled in frustration. Why wasn't it working?

She grabbed her glass of water and went back to the wedding plans that Bruce had laid out before her. Harry stood in front of his father's desk, clapping his hands and muttering to himself.

Just for a second he thought that he had imagined the entire thing. That there wasn't a green light.

Jaw clenched tight, he slammed his hands together creating a small flicker of green light. He tried it again and the light flickered brighter, almost encompassing his clasped hands.

His parents were still engrossed in their discussion, completely missing Harry's display.

Harry took a deep breath and slammed his hands together. The light wavered a bit; furrowing his brow Harry concentrated with all his might. He watched as it flickered before a translucent green bubble formed, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. He watched in awe, as it grew larger and larger, encompassing his wrist.

"Wow!" Harry's exclamation was loud enough to break through his parent's conversation.

Diana turned first. The glass slipped from her hands, hit the corner of the desk and shattered on the floor. Her mouth agape, she groped around on the desk until she felt Bruce's hand.

"Hera!" Diana whispered, breaking Bruce's train of thought.

He watched silently, a green light filling the room as memories of Harry's entrance into their lives filled his mind. The connections were instantly clear.

"Oh God."

* * *

><p>It had been days since the he had sensed the power. Now here it was again, twice in so short a time after being absent for almost a decade. Something had changed and it would give him just the chance he needed to finally bend the universe to his will.<p>

He had looked on without remorse at bodies of those he had once called "brother". The Green Lanterns were no more and all of the Guardians had perished on Oa, save one.

He let himself revel in the feel of the immense power.

Purple eyes sparked. "So you have finally come out of hiding then. I will find you, Ganthet, and when I do the universe will understand the true grip of fear."

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p>

A/N: There you have it. Just like I had planned. My story, my pacing. Don't like it? Leave.


	18. Add Another Problem, The Stir

**The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern**

Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or Harry Potter

**A/N: Yes, I know. No need to say it if I already know. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: Add Another Problem Then Stir<strong>

_**June 28 1993  
>Founder's Council, Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting Earth<strong>_

"Is that what I think it is?" The Flash asked. The rest of the room remained awestruck.

He and the other Founders stared wide-eyed at a live feed projection of Harry producing spheres of green energy in the infirmary. Batman made the projected image smaller, allowing him to see his colleagues. "The best the doctors can determine is that Harry is generating the energy from his body. I have some ideas as to when he received this ability. I am still trying to determine the how." He finished while looking at John Stewart, whose eyes had not left Harry's image. "Have you ever seen anything like this?"

"Since the Guardians first harnessed the power for the rings, there have been attempts to steal it. No one had ben able to contain the power in anything other than the Central Battery. Even our rings are just conduits." John watched as Harry conjured another bubble on screen, the largest yet.

"John." Superman prompted.

The former Lantern shook his head, pushing past old memories and continuing on. "Eventually, the attempts to move the source to another item stopped when word spread about Mogo, the idea that the power could be held by a living being spread through the universe. His existence seemed to confirm that a living being could take all of the power into themselves and wield it. I didn't think it was possible."

"Are you telling me that a twelve year-old boy has the power of a green lantern?" Superman asked, incredulous.

"There have no sightings of any Green Lanterns anywhere in the universe. No mention of a power ring being used. He," he pointed at Harry, "is the only trace of Green Lantern power the universe has seen since Oa fell. What I'm saying is that I have no idea what's going on. This has never happened, not once in the history of the universe. I don't know if what you're looking at is what's left over from his encounter with Ganthet or something else entirely. The only way we can know for sure is to wait."

"Ain't that something?" The Flash said as he leaned back and kicked up his feet. "Wonder Woman, Batman, and a green lantern; all in one family. Watch out world." He was ignored.

* * *

><p>While the superheroes somberly discussed the recent turn of events, the medical bay was host to a shocked mother and her excited son.<p>

"Mom! Mom, watch this!" Balling his hand into a fist, Harry formed another bubble. He concentrated and the bubble became increasingly transparent.

A doctor, who had been observing, spoke up. "Why don't you try and make it bigger. Ma'am, if you could step back."

Harry eagerly agreed. Diana gave him room and watched as his face scrunched, eyes squinting in concentration and the room looked on as the green sphere grew and grew.

Diana could only stand in awe as her son focused and made the bubble envelope him completely. When it finally stabilized, Harry called out from the center, "Hold on, I'm going to try something." The adults could only standby and watch him turn the bubble opaque. After a few minutes had passed, without her son emerging, Diana grew worried.

"Harry. Harry, come out of there!" Diana pushed on the sphere. When it didn't immediately give way she grew worried. She hit the sphere cracking it. She turned to the doctors, her eyes begging for help and watched as the monitors spiked.

The frenzy ended almost as soon as it started when Harry appeared, an excited grin on his face. "Did you see that? I didn't know I could do that. I wonder how long I can keep people out."

"Harry, don't ever do that again. You had me so worried. What if something had gone wrong?" She raised an eyebrow at her son, who had the grace to look contrite.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just wanted to see what I could do with it. This isn't like magic at all!"

One of the doctors stepped forward, "How are you doing, son? We want to know if you feel up to doing it again. Just so we can see if the first reading was accurate."

Diana stepped closer, not willing to be separated from her son again. Taking his hand in hers, she waited to be enveloped in the green light but after more than a few grunts of effort nothing happened. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"I'm really tired, Mom," Harry said around a yawn. "I don't think I can do anymore right now."

Diana guided him to the infirmary bed and sat down next to him, holding him close. When his breathing had deepened and she was sure he was resting, she maneuvered him until he was lying down.

Unsure of what else to do, she rubbed her forehead. She had no idea what was going on and almost dreaded what Bruce would tell her after he finished his meeting with the other Founders.

Not long after Harry had fallen asleep, the doctors finished taking notes, just fiddling with dials that would monitor him. Before they could exit the room, Diana called out to the one that had taken lead on the case, an older man, Dr. Thompson.

"Is he going to be alright?"

Thompson looked down at his notes and sighed. "As far as we can tell he is fine. Physically, he wouldn't be healthier. Vitals are normal. No undue stress on his body and, from what we can see, the episodes don't seem to be causing him any harm other than the exhaustion. Mentally, this could be a point of stress. Once the novelty wears off, Harry could experience souring moods. It will be a good idea if you keep an eye on him."

He flipped the chart over and read the stats. "We've recorded faint readings of a power very similar to that Mr. Stewart used to generate when he was Green Lantern." He looked at Harry. "It almost disappears after he induces a reaction, the readings go so low. Then the machine begins to pick up on the energy until we get back to our original measurements."

"Why is he so tired?" She brushed her fingers through Harry's hair. "If the energy is coming back why isn't he awake?"

Thompson pulled over a rolling stool and sat down in front of the mother and son. "I must stress that we have never before witnessed anything like this. While the energy is like that of a green lantern, the power source is unknown. We don't know how he is channeling it or even where it is stored. Whatever it is, it's pretty clear that exercising this power tires him physically. We need to run more tests if we plan on understanding it."

"Thank you, doctor." After all of the doctors had left and the lights were turned off, Diana was left holding her son tightly against her side.

"Oh Harry, what are we going to do with you?"

_**July 16 1993 Afternoon  
>Diagon Alley, London, England<strong>_

Hermione walked slowly through the crowd, following her parents. She had gone through the motions since coming home from school. Not much had changed in the days leading up to the trip to London.

Hermione knew that this day trip was meant to cheer her up. The previous year had been the cause of nightmares. Long tunnels and hissing voices haunted her sleep. But through it all, she still had a friend that was willing to shoulder that burden with her. And that was why she hadn't told her parents what had happened to her.

She knew what their reaction would be. After the shock and sadness would come anger. And that anger would make sure she never set foot in Hogwarts again. She couldn't do that to Neville and deep down she knew she couldn't do that to herself.

Whenever she felt close to breaking down and spilling her secrets to her parents, Draco Malfoy's face would appear in her mind.

The constant ridicule, the claims that she wasn't good enough, the condescension, the hate. All of it would be proven right if she gave up.

Hermione Granger was many things but a quitter wasn't one of them. She would never be able to live with herself.

But that wasn't to say that her parents were blind to her struggles. The Grangers had tried on multiple occasions to coax their daughter into talking. They tried to sweet talk her, tried confronting her sternly into explaining her behavior, but none of it worked. So, together, they decided that the only thing they could do was try to make it better. That was the purpose of the trip.

Mrs. Granger turned around to see her daughter walking slowly behind her. Eyes roaming the street but not in their usual manner. She wasn't excited about the strange way the wizards and witches, nor about some new product for sale in the window. It was like she wasn't seeing anything at all.

"Hermione?" Her daughter's eyes turned to her. Mrs. Granger waited for her to catch up, linking their arms as her husband watched from further up the road. "Are you sure you don't want to look in the bookstore?"

She could barely control her worry when Hermione blanched and shook her head. "No thank you, mum. I don't want to pick out any books right now."

Wilting, Mrs. Granger nodded her head. "Ok, sweetheart." She looked to her husband for an idea when he walked over.

"No books, eh? How about we take a gander in there?" Pointing, his family turned and looked at the storefront for Magical Menagerie.

Mrs. Granger looked inside the window, watching the store clerk chase an orange streak around with a broom. "They seem to be having a problem, why don't we have a look somewhere else and come back later?"

Mr. Granger threw an arm around Hermione and pulled her close. "Let's start over there." In a half hug, he cheerfully steered her towards Eeylops Owl Emporium.

Entering the store, the Grangers experienced the sound of hundred species and thousands of owls hooting and screeching to create a cacophony of noise.

Barn owls to horned owls, there were displays and prices for everything. Kits, cages, feeds, and pouches lined the walls.

Still wrapped around his daughter, he led them to a case containing pygmy owls. "Says here that they are great for beginners. Doesn't need to be fed very much, I guess on account of them being so small. Not much fuss at all. What do you think, Hermione?"

Hermione watched them dart about with distaste. "I don't know…"

Her mother sidled up on her other side. "Why not, dear? We have been talking," she looked to her husband, "and we think that it will be good for you. Something to look after."

Hermione's response was cut off by a loud bark and a scream that made the three of them jump, "Damned bird! Get in your ruddy cage!"

"Language," Hermione whispered to herself as her mother began scolding the shopkeeper.

"There are children present, sir!" Turning back to her family she said, "Maybe we shouldn't have come in here. There seems to be an epidemic of ill behaved animals today."

"Watch out!" The shopkeeper shouted as a white bird swooped down and with a flutter, landed on Hermione's shoulder.

Mrs. Granger jumped back in fright, her hand over her heart. Hermione stood frozen, slowly turning her head to see a large white owl picking at her wing.

"Stay still, Hermione. I'll try to get it off." Her father gingerly reached for the owl when it turned its head and barked menacingly. They stood there until the shopkeeper came over, a net in his hands.

"I'm gonna get the bird right off you, little miss. Don't you fret."

The bird swiveled its head and stared at the man. With a bark, it spread its wings and took off, circling the group to land on Hermione's opposite shoulder. A soft bark later and it was back to picking at its wing.

"Mum?" Hermione couldn't control the anxiety in her voice.

"Don't worry, dear. Just be calm." Just as her mother finished talking, the owl turned and brushed its head against Hermione's.

"Dad?"

Mr. Granger looked at her and saw the hopeful look in her eyes. With a sigh he turned to the man with the net. "How much for the bird?"

The shopkeeper ignored Mrs. Granger's sharp inhale and considered the owl. "Are you sure you want this one? She is the fussiest, meanest bird I have here. There are other birds that I think would be great for a beginner."

Hermione slowly reached up pausing when the owl looked at her hand. With a soft bark, she butted her head into the hand. Her father watched as a small smile grew on Hermione's face.

"I think that answers that. What are you going to name her then?"

Hermione took in her owl. "Ophelia?" The owl barked loudly, nipping her fingers hard. "Ow! Fine not Ophelia. I guess another Shakespeare name would have been too much."

_**August 12 1993 Early Morning  
>Wayne Manor, Outskirts of Gotham City<strong>_

The day of the wedding dawned clear and bright. The story of Bruce Wayne's pending nuptials was splashed across every newspaper and tabloid from Gotham to Coast City. Reporters and paparazzi rushed to book flights to Greece.

A source had confirmed the Wayne family had flown there to have the wedding in secret.

These reports made it much easier to gather a small group to celebrate at their home. Most of the Founders were present. Alfred prepared the food; he worked tirelessly in the hours leading up to the ceremony before taking his spot in the front row of the groom.

With just close friends in attendance, Harry stood at the altar next to his parents as they said their vows. Kara watched on with tears in her eyes as the minister completed the ceremony and introduced Bruce and Diana Wayne to those in attendance.

The reception was just as small. Diana danced with Bruce for the first time as his wife. Harry swayed awkwardly with Kara as Clark looked on, a smile on his face.

Eventually, after drinks and dinner had been cleaned up, the party wound down. Guests filed out, and the manor became quiet again. After congratulating the couple, Clark and Kara made their way home, leaving the family to enjoy the new normal.

Alfred set about clearing the dishes, making sure that the manor looked as pristine as it always did. Harry sat in a chair in the ballroom, quietly dozing off while watching his parents slow dance.

Diana and Bruce swayed to the music. Whispering to each other until Diana noticed Harry sleeping behind them. "I think the party is over."

Bruce let her go and turned. "We seem to be the last ones on the dance floor. Call for Alfred, tell him that we're going to take Harry to bed and that he should turn in himself." Walking up to Harry, he squat down in front of his son.

"Harry. Harry, you need to get up. You're a little too big for me to be carrying you to bed." Diana laughed softly behind him. She decided she would try.

"Harry?" She ran her fingers through his hair.

"Mom?" Harry looked up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Happy wedding day, Mom."

Diana smiled. Alone, with her family, she could finally enjoy the day. After years of courtship, parenting, and love, she was officially part of the family. The only Amazon in thousands of years to be bonded to a man through marriage and she couldn't have been happier to be unique in this very special way.

Bruce opened his mouth to speak just as the lights cut off. Diana took a step closer to Harry, already on edge.

"Did the power go out, Dad?"

Bruce shook his head. "No, there's backups generators that should've kept the lights on if it's a blackout, something must've happened to the fuse box." He went to the door and called for Alfred.

Moments later, the butler arrived, flashlight in hand. "I was just about to check on the transformer, Master Bruce."

Bruce walked to the door of a small pantry just outside of the ballroom and rifled through it producing two more flashlights. Passing one over to Diana he said, "No, I want you to take Harry somewhere safe until we return. Diana and I will get the power back on."

"Of course, Master Bruce. Master Harry, please accompany me downstairs." Alfred shepherded Harry through the door, while Harry stared at his parents.

"But I need to get my wand. I left it in my room," Harry pleaded.

"It is too late for that now, Master Harry. Come along."

Bruce didn't wait long after they had gone to pull Diana down the corridor in the opposite direction.

"What is it, Bruce?" Diana could feel the tension in her new husband.

Bruce's mouth was tight. The timing was too convenient for this to be a coincidence. "The entire manor going dark isn't possible. I made sure to install regulators that would keep the lights on while informing me that the main generator had failed. There wasn't even a flicker when the lights went off. That means that the backups had already been put offline."

Bruce stopped them just as they had exited the mansion.

Diana looked around. "Bruce?"

Bruce pointed in the utility shed hidden in the maze that lay in the center of the garden. "One way for the power to be cut is to sever the couplings in that shed. You can get there faster."

"What about you?" Diana asked.

He pointed in the opposite direction. "I'm going to generator room near the back lawn. That's the most likely cause of the outage. I should be able to get it back online. I don't like leaving Harry and Alfred in there alone so we need to hurry."

"Okay, Bruce. Be safe." With a kiss, the newlyweds separated.

Bruce moved quickly and quietly, hoping to sneak up on whoever or whatever had disabled the electrical grid supporting Wayne Manor.

The generator room was housed in a bunker in the corner below the back lawn. Bruce approached the door to the bunker slowly, keeping an eye on his surroundings. He noticed that the lock didn't appear to be tampered with and entered the code to allow access.

Nothing was out of place. Bruce looked over the generator and found it working fine. He deduced that the problem had to be with the couplings that Diana went to investigate.

Closing the door behind him, Bruce pushed himself to get to the garden quickly. As he rounded the sunroom in the western wing a loud crash broke the silence of the night.

Bruce looked up just in time to see a chair fly through corridor window in the eastern wing and crash to the ground.

Forgetting about Diana and the couplings, Bruce ran as fast as he could for Harry and Alfred.

* * *

><p>Still dressed in her wedding dress, Diana took flight. With it's isolation and lack of ambient light, Wayne Manor was concealed enough to mask her movement as she investigated the scene.<p>

The shed was unremarkable in that it was well hidden. In a well-planned and maintained garden, one would have to look hard to find it. Painted in a mesh of dark and light green and covered in ivy, it blended right into the maze wall. On this night Diana found it quickly enough and was on guard. The latch was unlocked and the deadbolt broken from the doorframe. Stepping inside, she could see that the connecting wires had been cut through cleanly.

She knelt down in her and touched the frayed lines. _'Cold. Whoever did this is long gone.'_ She stood and left the shed, intent on meeting back up with Bruce when she heard a light tap on the roof of the shed.

In one fluid movement, Diana scooped a piece of the deadbolt that lay forgotten and threw it at the shadow lurking just above the shed. Her eyes tracked movement as the figure dodged the metal bolt and landed just in front of Diana, between her and the manor.

"Is that anyway to treat a guest to your home, Princess?" An amused feminine voice said.

Diana's lip almost curled at the voice. "You were never invited and you are not welcome here, al-Ghul."

Dressed in the black attire common in the League of Assassins, Talia al-Ghul sheathed her sword.

"Don't worry, Princess, I've only come because I needed to speak with Bruce. No need to trouble yourself. I know my way around the manor quite well." Talia turned with a smirk and made for the garden exit.

Diana saw red. Without thinking, she threw herself forward. Talia, who had to have been expecting a reaction to her statement, rolled to the side and let the Amazon fly past her.

Diana wheeled around just as Talia set upon her, sword back in hand. Steel flashed quickly, striking high and low, searching for an opening but each time it was met with resistance.

Diana's bracelets took the brunt of the assault. Although unarmed, she was far from defenseless, fury built quickly over how easily the day, meant to be spent with her family, was being commandeered by the woman in front of her. Brushing aside a stab of the sword, Diana took the offensive.

Trained her entire life by her father, Talia was able to deflect or avoid most of the blows. Only two slipped past her guard, a forearm strike to her shoulder, which made her entire arm tingle, and a glancing blow to her temple. The hail of strikes didn't seem to slow down her to her, so she looked to create space. She struck quickly with her sword, drawing a small line of blood down Diana's arm before she spun away, avoiding another attack.

Talia smiled. "Do you want to continue this, Princess?"

Diana didn't respond. She ran forward again and engaged in punches and kicks, Talia doing what she could to block and evade the strikes. Until she couldn't keep up and a punch caught her in the midsection. Driving the breath from her body, Diana followed up with a backhand that knocked Talia across the garden, sword flying into the darkness.

On her back, Talia blinked away stars until a weight landed on her chest making it harder for her to breathe. Diana firmly drove a knee down onto her chest.

"What are you doing here, al-Ghul?"

Talia choked out disjointed sounds. "Assassin…rogue…" Diana furrowed her brow. Then a loud crash echoed through the grounds, originating from the manor.

Pushing off of Talia, and driving the breath from her again, Diana took flight, making her way back to Harry.

* * *

><p>Alfred led Harry through the long corridors, making their way to the cave beneath the grounds. He had begun calling it "downstairs" as a means of discussing it in public settings without attracting attention. It was the most secure place in the house and Alfred was sure they would be safe there until Bruce and Diana returned.<p>

Walking quickly the pair focused on making it to the cave. Alfred made sure to keep his eyes open as he held Harry's hand. Ever since the attempted kidnapping at the football game, Alfred always made sure to be ready when it came to the youngest Wayne and with all of his training as a soldier and as the support staff for Batman, he was well prepared to protect Harry from harm.

None of it, however, prepared him for the shadow that attacked from above.

Alfred didn't know they weren't along until he felt two feet slamming into his back. The tall, dark clad figure kicked off the butler, flipping through the air and landed quietly. Without pause, he slammed his forearm into Harry's chest. The force of the attack pushed Harry to the side, slamming him painfully into the wall.

Alfred rolled onto his back quickly and swept the man's feet while he was focused on Harry. Regaining his feet the same time as his attacker, Alfred positioned himself in front of Harry, getting a look at the assailant. Face covered, with two swords strapped to his back, Alfred quickly identified the attacker as a member of the League of Assassins.

He had just enough time to get his guard up before he was set upon.

The man in black was fast, faster than Alfred was able to react. Each strike the butler threw was dodged or parried, forcing Alfred back in order to avoid being knocked aside. Alfred lunged and tried to bring the assassin down to the floor in a hip toss but was quickly rebuffed and left vulnerable to attack.

He knew he was being played with when his opponent didn't take advantage of his vulnerability but stalked his prey and waited for him to regain his balance. Desperate to land a blow, Alfred released a vicious uppercut. The ninja countered with a kick to Alfred's thigh making the butler gasp in pain and sent the older man to a knee, followed swiftly by an openhanded strike to his shoulder. The intruder then lifted Alfred's chin, framing the butler's face in his palm.

"It's too bad, servant. I was told that you were once a formidable warrior in your prime. A pity what time does to us all, isn't it? I would've enjoyed this more had you not been so feeble." Convinced of his victory, he didn't notice Alfred's hand scrabbling along the wooden floor. He breathed in the moment until the butler slammed a picture frame across the side of his head, making sure to ground glass shards into his face.

With a pained growl, the man released Alfred and staggered back. Alfred took his chance and pushed himself to his feet. His leg wobbled under his weight but he was able to gather Harry and continue their way to safety.

Unheeding of the glass still embedded in his head, the man pulled his mask off to reveal a face tanned dark brown by many hours spent in the sun. He felt his face and pulled out the largest glass sliver from his head.

The assassin watched as the boy helped the crippled old man to a door on the far side of the hall. _'I was here to send a message, old man. Now, I will take pleasure in this,' _he thought.

Harry strained to keep Alfred upright while trying to run as fast as he could. "Are you alright, Alfred?"

Alfred limped alongside him. "I will be alright, Master Harry. Nothing a good night's rest can't cure," he responded through gritted teeth. "Here, stop here."

He scanned his surroundings in hopes of finding something to delay their pursuer.

But there was nothing. No place to make a stand, nothing that he could use as a weapon in his diminished state.

He was outmatched and he knew it.

Harry deposited Alfred on a chair in the middle of the hall. "Easy does it." Blowing out a deep breath he continued, "I want you to continue on. I will stay to buy you some more time. Once you reach the cave, signal the League and request assistance."

"But Dad doesn't like-"

Alfred cut him off forcefully. "Your father accepts my judgment and would agree that everything that can be done to ensure your safety must be done. Now go."

Harry knew better than to argue but before he could take a step a thin cable shot out and wrapped around his ankle, tripping him.

From the door they had just come through, the assassin pulled on the cord harshly. "I am here for Master's favorite. You will be the bait I use to lure him out. I, Salim, will be the Head of the Demon! Nothing is going to stop my rise!"

Alfred jumped from his seat and pulled the cable from around Harry's leg. But he couldn't turn in time to protect himself. Salim closed the distance quicker than either Harry or Alfred could have guessed and set upon Alfred mercilessly.

Alfred cried out when an elbow came down and broke his collarbone. Dizzy from the pain, he swayed, desperately trying to protect Harry. Salim grabbed Alfred's face in his hands, bringing him close. "You have failed." He pulled his head back and delivered a devastating headbutt, breaking open the older man's nose before he tossed him aside.

Harry was already back on his feet. Fighting guard up, his entire body shook after watching Alfred be dismantled so easily.

Salim laughed. "You are a fighter? Your father has been teaching you? Well then, attack!" When Harry didn't move, Salim became impatient. "You are a coward. Like him."

He reached over to pull Harry to him when Harry threw his arms up and a green shield formed in front of him. Salim took a step back, massaging the hand that throbbed after colliding full on with the wall.

"What is this sorcery?" He watched Harry struggle to maintain it before it blinked out of sight. Salim didn't know what he had witnessed but he knew he couldn't take the chance of the boy doing it while he was trying to take him away. He unsheathed his sword and advanced, ready to knock Harry unconscious with the hilt.

Harry's eyes went wide and he threw an arm out as Salim closed in. A beam of green light struck him full in the chest, taking him off of his feet and driving him into a table next to the window. Then he wavered. The exhaustion he had experienced every time he had summoned the light washed over him. Barely able to keep his feet, he faintly heard the window break and something crash to the ground below.

Salim finally saw his opening. Sword still in grasp, he contemplated removing the boy's hands but then, grudgingly, decided against it. Knowing that he would not be able to stop the bleeding in time, going against his plan of using his rival's son as bait. But this plan was taking far longer than it was supposed to, thanks to the boy and his servant and that made him angry.

Brushing past Harry's guard, Salim kicked him in the chest and sent him flying down the hall and away from his butler.

Harry landed with an "oof". Even exhausted, Harry looked his attacker in the eyes. "My dad's going to hurt you."

Salim snarled. Now standing over Harry, he crouched down and said, "Your father will beg me to end his life when I am done. I have stood in his shadow for far too long and that ends tonight. I have beat his man," he pointed at Alfred, "I have taken his son. And I have done all of this on the day he has taken a bride. Your father is a broken man already; he just doesn't know it yet."

Salim frowned in confusion when Harry smiled tiredly and screamed into the hall, "Dad!"

That was when he heard two rushed footsteps. He spun quickly, guard already up, just in time to see Bruce jump up, plant one foot on the wall and spring off to bring his fist down onto Salim's face.

Salim had thought himself ready. Ready to take on his master's favorite, ready to bear the mantle of the Demon. He wasn't ready for a father's rage.

He wasn't even able to use the sword.

Bruce attacked viciously, grabbing Salim's head and pulling it down to meet his knee. Salim dazedly stepped back unable to focus in time for an elbow smashing into his temple. Grabbing a hold of his wrist and elbow, Bruce broke Salim's forearm over his knee, making him drop the sword followed swiftly by a low heel kick that bent Salim's knee backwards.

Harry watched his father fight a real opponent for the first time in his life. He had heard stories about the vicious beatings that Batman would deliver during the night in Gotham but he had never imagined the brutality he was witnessing. His father picked the man apart, using the element of surprise first and then a skill that Harry could see was unparalleled.

Salim tried to throw a drunken haymaker, pushing off his one good leg, that Bruce caught and turned into a hip throw. Salim landed painfully but he didn't have time to think as Bruce continued his assault, delivering punch after punch to his unprotected face.

Heavy breathing pulled Harry's attention to the doorway. His mother appeared, her dress dirty and her face twisted in anger. She spotted Salim as he lay on his back and started forward only to be stopped by Bruce.

"Go to Harry," Bruce spoke clearly. Diana's face cleared and she flew past them to gather her son into her arms.

Salim's only thoughts were of retrieving his sword. Unable to focus on those around him his hand clawed blindly, trying to feel for the hilt but Bruce would not allow even that.

A foot came crashing down onto the hand, breaking all of the little bones as it ground its heel.

The pain was too much and Salim's world went dark. He wasn't sure how long he was out before a terrible pain shot up his leg, pulling him back to consciousness. Eyes wide, he saw the cause. Bruce had his fingers wrapped around his ruined knee, squeezing it.

"I want you to listen closely." The words sounded far away but he could see them come out of Bruce's mouth. "I want every one of your friends to know that my family is off limits. That what I will do to them will make this pale in comparison."

"I won't be your messenger!" Bruce smiled savagely.

"No, you won't. You're the message." With a final wrench, Bruce twisted the knee beyond recognition.

His body wrecked, Salim blacked out with a final yell.

"Bruce." Diana stepped forward.

"Dad!" Harry was the first to reach him. He wrapped his arms around him. "I knew you'd come. I knew you wouldn't let him hurt me."

"Of course not." Bruce looked over at Diana.

"Bruce?" The family looked to the woman standing in the doorway that Diana had entered.

"Diana, take Harry and Alfred downstairs. I'll be down there in a moment to help stabilize Alfred." Bruce's eyes never left Talia.

"Of course, love." Diana kissed him softly. "We'll be waiting for you."

Diana picked up Alfred effortessly and walked them to the Batcave.

"So that was your son?" Talia asked. Bruce could see her face had gone expressionless as she tracked Harry's exit.

"That was my family," Bruce responded.

"I didn't know that Salim would be coming here until it was too late. But I knew that you could handle him, Beloved." Talia took a step closer.

Bruce matched her and took a step back. "He didn't come here for me. He came here for my son. He came into my home and tried to take my son." He took a deep breath. "I am going to see to Alfred. By the time I come back I want you and," looked at Salim, "him out of my house."

With that he turned to follow his family. As he was about to walk through the door, he said, "Tell Ra's, if another member of the League comes here, I will come for him. "

_**August 20 1993  
>Azkaban Island, North Sea<strong>_

"I hate this damn island! It never gets a lick of sun, no matter the season," The guard complained to his partner.

"What ya 'spect? All those damned things flying around. This has to be the mos' depressin' place I ever been," His partner said. "And nothing compared to the company, though." With a cruel laugh he slapped the bars of a nearby cell with a rolled up paper, startling its occupant awake.

"Wake up, you lazy shite! Sleeping all day like you've not got a care in the world," he scolded. He joined his partner in the laughter.

They continued along the corridor, passing prisoners garbed only in rags. The further along they walked, the deeper they ventured into the prison. At the heart of Azkaban dwelled those that had been given the harshest sentences, the lifers.

They stopped in front of cell that held a man muttering to himself. "And look what we have here. It's always a pleasure to be graced with the presence of Sirius Black. How does it feel to be the most hated man in the wizarding world?"

Sirius looked up with a blank stare. "What day is it?"

They laughed again. "I guess you wouldn't know the day, would ya? I reckon you don' even know the year." He rolled up the paper and threw it at Sirius, who didn't have the self-awareness to protect himself from it. The paper hit his head with a thud, unraveling and scattering around the cell. He slowly gathered it together as he listened to their continued snickering as they completed their rounds.

He carelessly sifted through ads about magical hair regrowth, classifieds for jobs in Hogsmeade, or Ministry functions. He didn't show a reaction until he pulled open the community announcements section.

Standing in a row, waving their hands merrily, were a family of red heads. The title read, _"Weasleys Win Prophet Galleon Jackpot"_. His breathing sped up, fists clenched, teeth ground together. He stared at the picture hard, the cobwebs clearing out. For the first time in a long time, he understood where he was and more importantly, what he was looking at.

The waving family blurred and he realized that he was crying. Fixed on the shoulder of the youngest boy was a familiar looking rat. Fatter and greyer than he remembered but a rat he couldn't forget. "Wormtail. Wormtail. Wormtail. Wormtail." With each utterance, his voice grew louder. As the tears ran down his face, the only thing he could see was the rat, twitching slightly on the boy's shoulder.

"…_we should switch the secret keeper to Peter."_ He could hear himself say it in his head. The confidence he had in the plan that day made him sick. It was his fault. "Wormtail." Then he looked at his hand. With an enormous amount of effort, he forced himself to change. And slowly he did. Where his hand once was, was a paw.

With a mind of its own, it scratched at the wall. Before long he was panting, unable to hold the transformation, it morphed back into a hand.

He keened. Long and loud. Above the wailing and moans, his voice could be heard. After so long in a stupor, Sirius felt the full weight of his actions that night. "James, I'm so sorry. It was all my fault."

* * *

><p>Beta'd by AntHil<p>

There you go. Moving the story along. Now that my familial obligations have been met my writing schedule can be a little more regular.


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